


galaxy beneath us

by SineadRivka



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (yes that's a thing in this fic), Angst, Body Horror, Dads of Marmora (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Intersex, Intersex Allura, Intersex Alteans, Intersex Coran, Intersex Galra, Intersex aliens, It does get much better, M/M, Mentioned Krolia (Voltron), Multi, Other, Pidge is platonic with everyone, Platonic Relationship, Poly Negotiation, Polydins, Protective Kolivan (Voltron), Second-Hand Suicide Attempt, So many ships, Soulmate AU, Suicide Attempt, THAT'S A FUCKING TAG?!, Ulaz (Voltron) Lives, ace/aro character, child abuse mention, lots of hurt/comfort, lots of poly negotiations, more ships as chapters continue, mostly comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 71,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17156708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SineadRivka/pseuds/SineadRivka
Summary: Soulmates sucked. At least, that’s what Pidge had thought when they first realized what all the lightly-colored marks on their skin were: scars that their soulmate had accumulated since Pidge was born. Their soulmate lived a very chaotic and violent life, and Pidge was gonna give this kid a fucking earful when they finally met.This mindset stood until Pidge realized something.Not everyone only hasonesoulmate. Some, like them, have many.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, PLEASE be aware that I tag accordingly. This fic starts off with a bang, and some of the most triggery material in this first chapter will be marked both before and after by a triple section marker (~*~).
> 
> But yeah. I wanted to write a Soulmate AU. But I also wanted to write some hard angst. And I wanted to have lots of comfort after the angst, so I’m going to upload the first three chapters of this fic in rejection of Season 8. (Which I haven’t watched yet, and I’m glad I spoiled it for myself so that I can emotionally prepare myself once the fucking holiday season is done.) I’m a little stalled on this muse on Chapter 9. There’ll be a relationship chart (which will be super spoilery for the fic) posted by Chapter 5 or so. So . . . yeah. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Song title is from Kesha’s song “Past Lives.”

Katie Holt used to want to meet their soulmate. They wanted to see what kind of person would find their company fulfilling. You know, as a nonbinary, asexual, and demi-romantic. (Romance-romance is gross and over-the-top and didn’t seem meaningful or personal enough for the kid. Who wants botanical samples that will wilt and die an early death? Or dinners where you have to dress fancy in outdated gender-specific clothing to eat food that’s way too expensive? An afternoon walking around any number of museums would be so much more relaxing and a better way to bond.) Some people seemed to think that it was somehow okay to voice how awful it might be for Katie’s soulmate to accept a kid like them. A kid who “found sexuality and gender irrelevant.”

Despite all the negativity that they faced from the public towards their orientation and self-expression, Katie still eagerly looked forward to meeting their person.

Until they were truly old enough and aware enough to notice.

Their person got hurt.

A lot.

Like, a _lot_ a lot.

It seemed like every day was a new injury. Sometimes it was something very clear, like a papercut showing up as a small red line on a finger that would fade away. Sometimes, if the injury was bad enough, a hint of sensation would also filter through. Katie remembered the feeling of running into the coffee table shins-first when they were out practicing soccer in the backyard one day, no shinguards, nothing around to cause that pain, but there it was, bringing the kiddo to a stumbling halt. Clumsy, everyday occurrences of kids growing too fast for their coordination to keep up were _normal_. But this? This amount of what looked like outright abuse injuries? Bruises in “soulmate pink,” the color of a fresh scar, located where nobody could see them in public. Broken bones in an area after a long pressure-pain that _reeked_ of “look what you’re making me do to you.” Bruises in defensive locations . . .

Katie had learned what to look for early on.

At first, it had worried Katie’s parents. Sam never got over his distress. He wanted so badly to go and help and save this hurting child somewhere, but anything coming from the Holt family side was bound to make a bad situation worse. Katie knew that the cut on her chin she had gotten when she took a chin-dive against the corner of a doorframe the was four would have alerted their soulmate of their existence in a very obvious way. There was another beating that day. Maybe because of Katie’s clumsiness.

It _hurt_. Not physically, but it hurt their heart.

The worst was The Night.

~*~

~*~

~*~

Katie watched, horrified, as angry red lines traced along the inside of her left forearm. Colleen had held her weeping child close to her chest, her own tears splashing hot against the gingery hair. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?! Will it stop? Will they _stop?!_ ”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. Not everyone has what you have with us, Katie. Some people know very deep and scarring pain in many ways very early in life.”

“I hate it! I _hate_ this soulmate shit!”

The mother didn’t correct the child’s language; this was a unique situation. She wanted to cover Katie’s arm, to prevent more psychological trauma, but she knew that she had to treat the little child as an adult. If she took the choice from Katie to cover their arm and find out later if their soulmate died by their own hand, she knew that it could end up scarring Katie even more. “I know. I do, too.”

Katie looked up in shock. From their very young age, they hated that soulmates’ injuries showed up on their counterpart’s skin. Ink didn’t always transfer over without using expensive pens that had a unique chemical makeup, with the _really_ expensive ones requiring the DNA of both soulmates. At the same time, scratches would show up if done carefully, not deep enough to damage skin, and the marks faded within moments. Soulmates would write love-notes to each other all the time, and everyone seemed so very happy with their partners. But Katie never realized that the relationship between their parents was anything other than a fairy-tale romance. “You do?”

“There are so _many_ unrealistic expectations that the system perpetuates. People say that your soulmate will entirely fulfill you, erase all your pain, fill your heart to overflowing with their love . . . But that’s all so untrue, little Katie-bird. You can’t save your soulmate alone, and even if you’re perfectly-matched, you’ll never be able to be everything to this person.” She smiled sadly and picked up a brush to start untangling her child’s wild hair. Social grooming always soothed Katie.

“Are . . . are you and Dad happy together?”

“Yes. Because we both look to help each other find fulfillment in many people, and not just in one person singularly. We balance our lives with connections with many other people. With your father’s soul against mine, I feel complete in a way that goes deeper than most emotions. Without him, I would be a wandering planet.”

“What . . .” Katie looked down at their wrist. There were no new lines. “What if my soulmate dies, Mom?”

“You’ll . . . you’ll know. I . . . I wish that you never have to experience that until late in your life, dearheart. Your father and I lost a soulmate before we even met them.” She pulled the collar of her shirt aside, showing the so-purple-it-was-black mark a few inches below her collarbone and just left of her sternum, then settled it again. “We don’t know how it could have happened, just the day and time. We were still in college together.”

Katie reached over and grabbed a pen, taking the cap off and examining the edges. Putting it in her left hand, she scratched a heart on the fleshy part between her thumb and the back of her hand. And then she carefully scratched a second heart.

And another heart joined their first two. And another. And . . . 

Then there were several hearts being drawn at once, different pressures, different scrapes.

Colleen froze.

“Oh.” Katie’s face went slack with shock, then bounced into a bright grin. “There’s . . . there’s a lot of us. Good! Oh, _good_!”

Colleen couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight, tears still falling, but happy to see as Katie switched hands and began drawing hearts along the back of the other hand. She pulled her phone out and began taking pictures, knowing that Katie would want to analyze everything of what they just learned.

~*~

~*~

~*~

Xs and Os followed those first few scratched hearts, then several languages whispered along the small arms. Colleen saw something that looked Chinese, something in a Spanish dialect, something possibly from the Pacific Islands, _lots_ of English once that became known as the common language for everyone, and then shaky lines on the palm of the left hand drew a scratched heart and a small message.

_I’m safe. I’m okay._

_I’m sorry._

Colleen pulled out the generic soul-pen that she always kept in her pocket, handing it wordlessly to the little hand that started trembling. “Here. This will be easier. I’ll make sure to have pens for everyone when the time comes.”

“This . . . Mom, this is _expensive_.”

“It’s worthless against the price of a life. Write. Go on.”

The first scratches had faded, and Katie uncapped the pen with their teeth and spat it out, voice soft as they spoke the words out loud. “We . . . love . . . you. Don’t . . . leave . . . before . . . we . . . meet you. I’d . . .” Katie sniffed hard, and whispered, “I’d be so sad.” They wrote the last words silently, following it with a heart.

When Sam saw the footage later that night, he sagged and leaned back against the couch. “This gives me a lot of hope, Colleen. Damn. We got ourselves two smart kids with hearts so big . . .”

“How are Matt, Adam, and Shiro doing?”

“They’re working things out as they go, Colleen, it’s only been two months. They’re good for each other, even if they’re not all soulmates. Shiro had an emergency to attend to tonight, so he had to miss the study session. But Matt and Adam seem to be getting on all right. Matt’s actually kind of glad that he and Shiro don’t match scars, but Adam seems upset that both Matt and Shiro don’t match up the same, and that Shiro has probably another two soulmates out there. I think, anyway. Adam’s a little difficult for me to read sometimes, and Shiro’s no open book, either.”

“Mm. How is Matt helping Adam cope with that?”

“How’d you guess?”

“I know our son.”

“He’s working on it. Adam and Shiro have known each other for half their lives; Matt fits perfectly with Adam in complementary ways to Shiro, but Shiro and Matt only fit together as friends.” He leaned in to brush her nose with a kiss. “You’re anxious about their relationship.”

“You know that I’ll be working through my anxiety until we have more word on Katie’s soulmates, and making sure that they’re _all_ okay. I want my babies and their people to just all be okay. It’s the parent in me.” Shaking her head with a smile, the mother pulled her legs up onto the couch. “I’ll be fine, Sam. Just so long as they all know that they can come over anytime if they need help or need anything at all, I’ll be fine.”

~*~

The offer made was taken up the next day. Shiro looked like a wreck; deep circles under his eyes cut through the otherwise-ashen tone of his skin, so he was dismissed from classes early and ordered back to bed. Both Adam and Matt had insisted that they get off-base and away from the campus environment to get his head back on straight. He wouldn’t tell them why he was so upset, or why he hadn’t been with Adam and Matt the night before.

When they got to the Holt’s, Colleen welcomed him inside with a firm hug. The kid sibling/gremlin had immediately started in on their brother and teased him mercilessly about Adam. They were happy to see each other and immediately started in on the verbal sparring matches that were vital to their friendship. But Adam, who didn’t know that Katie was really enjoying making their brother blush and squirm? Who clearly didn’t know that Matt absolutely adored encouraging Katie to get more and more inventive and creative with their teasing? Adam finally snapped.

“This isn’t a game, kid! Soulmates aren’t easy.”

The young face stilled, and Matt looked ready to haul off and break Adam’s jaw. “Adam, that—”

“Wow, fuck you too, Adam.”

_“Katie!”_ Sam hissed, aghast.

But Katie had more in mind. “You think I don’t know that soulmates are a curse, too? I’m _glad_ that you and Matt get along and know each other already. I don’t know my soulmates. And one of them?” They shoved their left arm up, lines still red and raw. “One of them tried to kill themselves last night. I’m fucking _twelve_ , you _asshole_. I don’t know how old my mates are or _who_ they are, and I _can’t fucking dare_ try to find out because one of them, probably _this_ one, gets beaten on a regular basis. You get it, now? I tease Matt because _he has you_ and _he loves you and you love him_. And you have _Shiro_ , too, and Shiro’s a badass because he deals with _both_ of you monstrous idiots.”

Adam didn’t know what to say. Matt picked his kid sibling up in a bearhug, eyes leaking and mouth moving almost-silently. But Katie burrowed into their older brother’s embrace, so he must have said something that they needed to hear.

Shiro was pale, holding onto the doorframe for support and eyes wide, panicked.

Sam thought that he was just in shock that Katie had just shut Adam down, and turned to focus on Adam. Colleen touched Shiro’s elbow from behind, leading him off to the study, closing the door. “Takashi?”

He held his left arm out, scared to do this one thing himself, needing a parent in this moment. He hadn’t needed a parent to help him for _years_ , but right now . . .

She took his arm gently, cradling his hand and pulling the sleeve up to see the exact same lines that sat on her child’s arm. Resting a hand over the new scars, she leaned in and kissed his pulse-point. Then, not breaking skin contact, Colleen guided his head to rest against her shoulder with her right hand on the back of his neck. “You’re scared.”

“I’m so much older than she— _fuck-they I meant they_ —are. They. Fuck. _Fuck._ I’m sorry, Colleen.”

“They’d forgive you on this slip-up, Takashi. So do I. But you’re scared.”

“I _don’t_ want to hurt a kid, and I’m almost an adult, and they’re like my _sibling_ , like Matt, and I don’t know if I could ever tell them that . . .” He stopped, horrified, and trembled in Colleen’s grasp. “ _Adam_. Oh my God. Adam will be so pissed. He . . . he doesn’t want to know my other soulmates. He’s jealous already. He knows that it was one of the other people last night, and he . . . He’s insecure. It doesn’t make sense! If anything, _I_ should be the one that’s got sharing problems right now because of him and Matt!”

“But that’s not _you_ to be the jealous type. You want everyone to find some sort of fulfillment, no matter what kind of soulmate-family is drawn together. Adam fears that you’ll leave him behind, Shiro. Maybe because he’s already left part of who the two of you have been to each other behind in the wake of his new relationship with Matt. Maybe he doesn’t know how to balance more than one partner, especially since his first partner has some serious health concerns.” She stroked her hand through his hair, reassuring him without words that she didn’t see his illness as anything more than a facet of who the young pilot was. “It’s okay to be mad at your soulmate. They’re just as human as you are, and they’re going to screw up. Sam and I fight over a few dumb things, but we also fight over a few really important things. We just don’t do that in front of Matt and Katie.”

Shiro shuddered, tears leaking and falling onto Colleen’s shoulder. “I want to be good enough for Katie, when they’re ready to meet me and know me as _theirs_.”

“Oh, Shiro,” Colleen sighed, smiling and pulling him into a full hug. “You already are. I know you, and you already are.”

When they walked back out ten minutes later, Shiro was smiling and hiding his pain again with Colleen’s careful help. He stood with his hands clasping behind his back just as he saw Katie uncap a pen. “We’ve been doing this randomly all day today and it’s been pretty cool and I think that it’s helping our soulmate feel better. Watch.” They traced a heart on the back of their hand, along with a smiley-face sticking its tongue out.

Within a minute, other lines, different hearts and handwriting started showing up.

Katie beamed. Shiro traced a heart with his thumbnail on the fleshy part of his left thumb, close to the palm, then dragged a line to make a series of three lines crossing in the middle. Colleen caught the movement, grinned and watched as Katie gasped. “Oh! Whoops. Someone’s busy somewhere and can’t have anything showing on their skin.”

“Which one? Wait, what?” Adam leaned in, watching how several hearts appeared around the asterisk.

“This heart. Here. We agreed on a ‘busy,’ and ‘can’t have marks showing’ system, because we want to keep that one soulmate safe. Busy is any symbol on either palm, and an asterisk on the left palm is ‘no marks.’ We’re still working on how to proceed from that symbol to a notification to get help to anyone who needs it.” Katie smiled at the heart. “I hate that my soulmates get hurt. I hate that I’ve hurt my soulmates, too. But I’m glad that my . . . Dad, what did you call it?”

“Well, in your case, it’d be a horde of soulmates.”

“Dad!”

“A flock,” Adam suggested.

“A gaggle,” Matt laughed.

Colleen snorted delicately. “It’s called a _cohort_ , you plebian walnuts.”

Shiro shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets until the marks faded. “Why not call it a pride?”

Grinning, Katie lit up. “Like lions? I like that. A pride of soulmates. Shiro, you’re the _best_!”

And Shiro buried the warmth he felt for the kid deep in his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time that Keith Kogane cared about who his soulmate would be was when he aced that flight sim test in front of his entire class. He knew that his foster family wouldn’t care, but he really wanted someone to celebrate with him. Anyone.

And then he was bailed out by a guy barely older than he was but clearly in a better place.

If Keith wasn’t sure that he was some shade of gay before, he sure as hell was certain of it _now_. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes away from the Garrison pilot and recruiter until he was almost caught staring, and then pretended disinterest for the rest of the presentation.

Takashi Shirogane.

Everyone should be sexually attracted to that man, regardless of his own sexuality.

Keith didn’t _people_ very well, and he got sooo much worse when he had a crush, so it went without saying that hearing the teacher throw him under the bus just made him want to show off how barren his field of fucks truly was. He’d been tossed about in the foster care system, abused by several in many ways, and the only reason why he was with the current family was because the government hadn’t wanted to transfer him to a new school so close to the end of the school year.

Shiro was adorable, handsome, disciplined, charismatic, and above all? He fucking _cared_. And Keith hoped that one day, he’d have a soulmate as wonderful as Shiro was whenever he found them.

“Keith—”

“Thank you for bailing me out.”

“Listen—”

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Shiro sighed explosively, and the teenager instantly felt awful that he pushed this man to that point of irritation so quickly in the conversation. He didn’t understand why it affected him, but it was a gut-twisting sensation. “Keith, I know you’re in a rough place—”

“Yeah? You do? Do you know _how_ rough of a place I’m in?” Fucking hell, Keith, shut up, shut up, _shut up_.

There was a long silence in the vehicle he had stolen, the streetlights phasing by only showing glimpses of Shiro’s thoughtful expression. Finally, the Garrison man spoke. “I don’t know how bad it’s been for you. I don’t even think that you’d tell me the whole of it, and that’s perfectly okay. What I _do_ know is that I see greatness in you.”

Keith opened his mouth to scoff, and Shiro’s fist bumped his shoulder with a chuckle. “Shut it, kid. Let me say my piece, and then you can tell me how wrong I am afterwards.” The next light that they passed revealed Shiro’s grin. “I have _never_ seen test scores like yours, and I helped write, test, and standardize that sim. That greatness? You can achieve it and flaunt it, but _only_ if you apply yourself, discipline yourself, and work on that patience problem of yours. I _know_ you can do that, and I _know_ that you can prove your teacher wrong about you and your aptitude.” He paused, giving Keith the chance to say something. When the silence dragged on, he finally asked in a softer tone, “Why didn’t anyone else come to pick you up?”

“They’re my current foster family and they’re done with me and my shit. They don’t fucking care about me. They just want me gone as soon as the school year is done.”

“Current?”

“Latest in a line of who-fucking-knows how many. I stopped counting. I’m a ‘problem child’ for a lot of families. I’m a kid that’s just so done with trying.”

Shiro didn’t hold in his sigh. Well, at least Keith wasn’t going to bullshit anyone about _that_ particular point. This kid had been failed by so many people, so many systems, and it broke his heart. There was maybe a few years difference between them, but it was something that really broke him a little on the inside. He pulled up to the curb in front of the address that the local police had given him, seeing a government car already there and waiting. “What?”

Keith’s foster parents had finally had enough of his behavioral problems, calling the two reps assigned to Keith’s care and demanding that they come and pick him up. Shiro watched the teen sag, eyes shining but refusing to let the tears fall in front of his case workers and a relative stranger. “Let’s go see what they want, okay?”

“Not hard to see. Those are my suitcases.”

Shiro glared at the small bags, hardly enough for all the worldly possessions for a teenage boy. He made eye-contact with the younger of the two case workers, miming that he was going to make a call. The young man looked like he had been awake for days, and he nodded once, moving to talk to Keith and stall for time. Their interaction spoke of a long familiarity, and a lack of judgement coming from the social worker. That in itself eased the pinch in Shiro’s chest.

Turning and pulling out his phone, he dialed his supervisor’s number and waited for the irascible man to finally pick up. It took five rings before the sleep-heavy growl of greeting met Shiro’s ear. “Mrh.”

Shiro wasted no time. This man hated small talk. “The kid whose sim scores make mine look like shit and that made you ruin a laptop with your coffee? He’s an orphan lost in the foster system, and his recent host family just kicked him out after he, uh, pulled some shit.”

“Your charity case now, Shirogane.”

“Iverson—”

“You’re over eighteen. I’ll send you the packet for the Garrison to take over custody and help him earn his emancipation if he wants it. Don’t fuck this up; we need good pilots like him.”

“Look, I haven’t even talked with my soulmate about this; give me two days to negotiate—”

“Jeez, no. Two days, Shiro? No. These are your _orders_ , and he’ll handle his emotions or he’ll disqualify himself.” Iverson was harsh, but he knew that Adam would either rise to the occasion, or he would end up earning a broken nose from pushing Shiro too hard.

Both knew that the relationship was still very rocky.

Shiro sighed, tension draining from his frame. Adam wasn’t his only soulmate. And while it would hurt to lose the man, he knew that Matt was well-matched with him, level and cunning, but daring and adventurous in his scientific pursuits. Matt also knew that Adam needed to 

“Okay. Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. Make sure you let me know when and where I need to show up with popcorn, though.”

“Ass.”

“ _You’re_ the one that called me in the middle of the goddamned night, Shirogane.”

The line went dead and Shiro shook his head. Adam will probably pitch a fit and Matt will just spoil Keith because he missed his kid sibling. He was glad for Matt’s friendship and the level way that he handled Adam. Turning, Shiro pocketed his phone and reached into the Garrison vehicle for his work tablet. It loaded with the transfer of custody forms, ready for everyone to sign. Walking up to Keith, he held it out and explained, “This is a choice for _you_ to make. Not me, not your case workers, not any foster family.” He glared at the doorway, where two men stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching them silently. Anger dropped Shiro’s voice a half-octave into his take-no-shit-dad-voice that Matt was still teasing him about. “Get the fuck back inside; he’s not any of your responsibility anymore.”

“He—”

“Did he damage any of your property? Cause any loss of value to anything that you own?”

“He put holes in the walls.”

“Yeah? With what? Fist? Foot? Elbow? Baseball bat? Bowling ball?”

The taller man looked a little nervous. “Tacks. For posters.”

Shiro couldn’t help himself, he _laughed_. “Wow. If you had loss of property value, you’d’ve talked to the Garrison about it. But since it was _thumbtacks_ , oh my God.” Shaking his head and cursing in Japanese under his breath, he dismissed them by ruffling Keith’s hair. “Keith isn’t your concern; get back inside.”

“I had posters up that they tore down,” Keith whispered. “Of . . . of the Garrison. And your flight.”

Shiro grinned, walking into the light deliberately. “We’ll get you new posters. And hell, I’ll even sign them for you.”

“Why? When I can sass at you directly, now?”

Laughing again, the pilot indicated the forms. “Sounds like you made your choice.”

Keith pulled up the bio-scanner, letting his thumbprint scan to show that he approved of this transfer of custody. This was a familiar process to him, but for some reason, this really felt like it was going to be the last time. _Emancipation._ “I . . . have assets willed to me . . . ?”

“Yours upon emancipation or when you turn eighteen, whichever comes first,” Shiro assured him. “We can, if you’d like, take leave to inspect those assets after you’ve settled into the Garrison for a month or two.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And one more thing: I’m not going to be a foster parent, regardless of the terminology that you’ve seen before. The Garrison is your guardian entity, and I’m assigned as your primary mentor since we’ve already built a rapport. If you find that we don’t continue to fit, we can work together to find you a new mentor.”

“No!” Keith clapped a hand over his mouth. “I don’t want anyone else.” He blushed, looking down at the tablet still in his hands. “I’m . . . I’ll only be trouble.”

Shiro took the tablet, scanning his thumb. “Good. We could use the shake-up.”

~*~

“So, what, now you have a son?”

“Adam—”

“No, _you_ made the decision, so _you_ have a son.”

“That’s not how this works, and you _know_ it.” Shiro kept his voice level, calm, doing everything possible to try to appease his mate. “Yes, I tested him on a Sim. Yes, I was the Garrison rep who bailed him out of police custody. _Yes, he trusts me_ , and I _also_ was assigned by Iverson to mentor him while he works for his emancipation through the Garrison program.”

Adam threw his hands up in the air, making Keith flinch at the sudden motion and making Matt bristle slightly from where he stood to one side, respecting that this was something between the two older men. All three men caught the flinch, and Shiro realized that he had no idea how to fix this.

But Matt had some clue. “Adam, enough, _please_. You and I have been getting closer and working on our relationship for almost a year, now. Shiro has been _more_ than patient while we established ourselves, but he also could have been doing any number of things instead of focusing on his Garrison career and maintaining the status quo between you two. He could have been out searching for his own soulmates instead of burying himself in making flight sims and Kerberos prep work with my dad. He’s been making his life happen, while prioritizing _your_ needs and wants over his own. That’s unfair.” Taking a deep breath, Matt continued. “He can’t just keep putting his life on hold for you while you figure out how to poly, even _after_ we all went through counseling together.”

“Keith just needs crash space for tonight before we get him assigned quarters tomorrow. Adam, I’ve been waiting for you to feel settled with Matt before trying to reignite our relationship. You’re the only person who can tell me when that happens. I’m respecting your desire for that distance.”

Before Adam could give a response, Matt grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room. Keith opened his mouth, right hand gripping his left forearm behind his back, fingernails digging into the skin. He would have to apologize to his soulmates tonight for the crescent-shaped marks. Shiro cut the teen off before he could even start. “This is _not_ your fault; he and I have had a lot of problems and it’s been like this for a while.”

“You . . . aren’t in love with your soulmate?”

“No. He and I haven’t been in love for years, despite being dedicated to each other.”

“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Shiro.”

“Sometimes, soulmates aren’t there for romance or love. Sometimes, soulmates are there for someone to learn something. Sometimes, soulmates are platonic. Just . . . don’t expect every soulmate pair or family you see to be loving, romantic, or even at peace with each other.” Shiro was about to say more, but Matt walked back in, taking his glasses off and rubbing at his eyes.

“Adam is staying in my dorm tonight, and I’m taking his bed. Oh my God, Shiro. Has his insecurity always been this bad?”

“No. It’s gotten worse since you and I got selected for the Kerberos pool. He’s scared because he thinks that he’s going to lose me entirely. I have other soulmates, I could be chosen as Sam’s pilot, everything. So he’s pushing me away preemptively so it doesn’t hurt him as much when I supposedly leave.”

“Jeez. After this, I’m almost debating creating some space between him and me.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “I’m going to run an overnight bag to him with a uniform. He’s really pissed, but mostly at himself for fucking up a good friendship with you.” Switching gears, Matt turned on the puppy eyes. “Can you make Keith and I some comfort food? _Plleeeeaaasssseee_?”

The laugh that burst out of Shiro startled himself, and he grabbed Matt for a hug and a raspberry on the cheek. “Yes, I’ll make you my grandmother’s _oyakodon_. Get.”

“Yes! Keith, you’re going to be spoiled!”

“I . . . what?”

“Shiro makes homestyle Japanese food and it’s _divine_.” Matt danced out of reach to straighten his cadet uniform and dart into Adam’s room.

Keith blinked at Shiro. “That’s it. You really _are_ Space Dad like the tabloids say.”

“Goddammit, not you, too.”

~*~

Late that night, Keith stared at the ceiling. He traced the scars along the inside of his left arm, fingertips running over the well-known reminder of his pain. Holding his arm up over his head, he looked at his hands, lit by a soft nightlight that Matt had given him in the shape of the moon. He said that it could link up with his little sibling’s nightlight, and that they had used it to send Morse code messages to each other.

Along his arms, he saw the nightly “message board” start up. Hearts on the backs of hands, everyone drawing them in a different style, a game of tic-tac-toe up by his right elbow. Nobody had the soul-ink pens, which was kinda an obvious thing since they were all subadults, according to one smartass soulmate. He couldn’t wait to meet that one. They sounded hilarious. They also were a little shit and would sometimes steal a parent’s soul-pen to copy down a line of text that was particularly hilarious, or an equation that was bugging them. There was very little romance there, but Keith was shocked that he enjoyed the lack of cutesy shit from that corner.

A heart bloomed over the scars. Every night at the time he tried to kill himself, this heart would appear. It was a small heart within a larger heart, with lines leading out from the larger heart almost as if it was glowing. The artist was _terrible_. And it would always be written over with words of love, support, and so many other hearts. He took the time to stare at it and sentimentally kissed the middle heart before it faded. His ever-present Bic pen cap pulled out of his pocket, and he used the long edge to write, _“Love you folks. Thank you. Rough day.”_

The door to Shiro’s room opened, and he jerked his sleeve down guiltily.

He was crushing on Shiro (a mentor in title only) while his soulmates were supporting him. God, he was such _trash_.

The man was cozied up in a traditional robe of some sort, shuffling carefully to the bathroom. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were still up. Be right out.”

He was gone before Keith could say anything. The young man sighed and looked down at his arm again.

When Shiro returned, he sat on the arm of the armchair with careful movements, his voice low. He must have been cold, because he had long sleeves on under what Keith could now see was a quilted haori. “I know that it can be difficult to fall asleep in a new area, and I know that a couch is really not the most secure of places—”

“The door locks,” Keith interrupted. “And the bathroom door locks. And I can keep those doors from opening if I need to.”

Shiro grimaced. “I hate that you’ve had to learn those lessons so early in life.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t keep determined people out.”

Shiro opened his mouth, froze, flushed, paled, and looked away in less than a minute. Keith sighed. “I haven’t been raped. But it was a near thing a couple times. The only thing that stopped them was me telling them that if anything happened to me, I have at least three soulmates and I could give them an address and they’d be there in less time than it would take for him to fuck me.”

“ _Jesus_ , Keith.”

“Yeah. I think at least one of my soulmates is a scrapper.”

“I know at least two of mine are.”

“You have a lot of soulmates, too?”

“I’ve got five that I can count.”

“Jesus, fuck, dude. No wonder Adam is insecure.”

Shiro barked a laugh before shaking his head. “No, that’s just Adam. He wants to settle down, wants to have a soulmate that doesn’t want to travel the stars. And . . . that might be me someday. But he’s part of a whole. I have a lot of goals, and if he can’t accept that I have to get some of those done before I’m ready to retire, that’s on him to deal with.”

“Like Matt said, you’re making your life happen.”

“Yep.” Shiro smiled. “I’ve a feeling that talking about our soulmates would be a little too intimate for you right now, but I hope that they’re doing well. Can you pass that along to them?”

“Sure.” No, he won’t.

When Shiro had retreated for the night, Keith looked down at his arms again.

The gremlin had gotten their hands on a soul-pen.

He grinned and enjoyed seeing the designs dance over his arms, covering up the scars of his shame.

One day, he wanted to get a real tattoo there, and he wanted each of his soulmates to design part of it. After all, they had kept him together when he had tried to tear himself apart.


	3. Chapter 3

Hunk was _ecstatic_ to finally unpack his dorm and get himself set up. He felt a little like pretending to be an adult, but his parents had all been super happy that he had gotten into the Garrison, and had sent him everything he’d need. And he hadn’t had _any_ idea what all they had packed for him. He was so excited! His Mom probably packed something to do with physics and engineering, while Mimi would have put in something like yarn and knitting needles. And then there’s Dad who would have done something with engines, and Poppa who, oh my god.

He had opened Poppa’s box first and it was the _cooking supplies_. All-new kitchen gadgetry that were . . . _oh my god they were dorm-legal_ and this was going to be _wonderful_!

Squeeing and putting Poppa’s box (hah, that rhymes) into the kitchenette, he turned to open Mimi’s box next, gasping when he found not _only_ his favorite knitting needles, but _real wool_ and what was that under the . . . “Mimi, you are my hero.” He pulled out the box and set it upon the countertop. She had sent him a self-contained greenhouse environment for fresh herbs. His roommate was going to totally love this!

If his roommate ever arrived? Hunk shrugged. First in chooses first. Or however that goes.

He opened up his Mom’s box next and yes it was one of her old textbooks, _with_ annotations on what’s changed, and where to look for updates on the theories. Hunk. Was so. Happy. He knew she had also sent him some worksheets and theories, under which was some new casual clothing and extra headbands.

Setting the textbook aside, he opened Dad’s box last, smiling as he saw some books on old gas engines, fission engines and a few articles on if quantum propulsion can be incorporated.

He loved his family so fucking much. Mom and Mimi had been a couple first, and they were suuuuuper gay for each other. They hadn’t known what to do with Dad when they finally got the chance to meet him, and he was cool being platonic with them. He just liked being around his soulmates. Then they wanted a kid, and Hunk didn’t want to know how they had gotten Mom impregnated. Nine months later, he decided to make his debut, and when he was five, Poppa came out of hiding. He and Dad ended up being super gay, so it really worked out well for them. Knowing that he had at least two or three other soulmates really made him happy, too. He really loved the idea of having a big, happy, poly family.

The door slammed open, a lanky boy taking a step in just as the door bounced off of the stopper hard enough to ricochet back into the kid’s face.

The pain bloomed over Hunk’s nose and with a resulting groan, he held the door open while holding his own face with his hand. “Oh my God.”

Silence.

“So, you just broke your nose, didn’t you.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sure as hell feels like it. I hadn’t thought that part of the proximity-pain thing was real.”

The kid walked in, and Hunk closed the door after him. “Did . . . was it you who . . . that night?”

“No. I . . . I’m guessing it wasn’t you?”

“No, man.”

“But I _did_ drop an engine on my left hand? And broke my right kneecap in a freak carnival accident. Great story. Worth the pain.”

“Oh my God, I love you already,” The tall, tan boy was already laughing, choking on some of the blood despite his best efforts to keep himself from swallowing any.

It hit them both at the same moment. 

“You’re bleeding on your uniform.”

“Shit.”

~*~

Pidge felt like absolute shit. Day one and their soulmate _had_ to be here because holy _fuck_. They had an absolute idiot on the other side of _that_ metaphorical red string. They _had_ to be at the Garrison, because all studies show that the closer you are to your soulmate, the more you can feel the pain over not just seeing the scars. And that the more soulmates you have, the more intensely you feel the pain the closer you’re gathered.

Again, this system _sucked_.

Evolutionists theorized that it was to help people feel empathy for their soulmates.

Abuse still happened, and the worst kinds were the abuses that didn’t leave any marks.

So there Pidge was, finally settled down in their bunk and half-asleep. Their dormmate had nested down early, happy to have first shower and totally understanding that Pidge liked their privacy. They were still scrolling through their phone, sending messages occasionally, then settling down with some reading. And Pidge sat up with a yelp, tears bursting from their eyes, and swearing up a storm.

At least Bri was fucking chill and shared dumb stories about families and soulmates. That had made things better while Pidge iced their nose in hopes of deadening the pain a little.

But Pidge had only five hours of sleep total, which was shit. And then breakfast was cold, which was also shit. Then class was bullshit and full of shit and the professor didn’t give a shit. And lunch was gross and was probably shit. And then the afternoon lab was overcrowded and people broke shit they didn’t need to break.

Everything was shit.

Day one. Shit.

End of day two and Pidge tucked themselves into a tight right turn around a corner and managed to nail their face off of someone’s chest with some good speed behind them. “ _Fuck._ Ugh. I’m sorry.” They raised their left hand to rub at their nose. “It’s been a weird few days and I’m going back to my dorm. I’m sorry for running into you.”

“Eh, no worries. I take up a little extra space, so it’s good,” the other cadet replied, voice a little tight. Anxious? “And yeah. It’s been a strange few days.”

Pidge looked up, still tenderly examining their nose, which still felt broken, despite knowing that it wasn’t really _their_ injury. The other dude looked like his own face was bothering him, too. “Oh? Hey, you’re Hunk, right?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “And my week hit the epitome of strange. I met my soulmate when he ran into our dorm and the door nailed him on the backswing.”

Snorting, Pidge grinned. “Good luck with that space cadet, buddy.”

“I’ll probably need it.”

“Not going to introduce the soulmate? Usually people gush about their partner.”

“Nah, he gushes about himself enough sometimes, which is cool because he likes people to know where they stand with him and vise versa.” Shrugging, Hunk continued. “His name’s Lance. He’s goofy and loud, but—”

“McClain? Yeah. Good scores overall, not great, but high marks in the swim and marksman tests. And, uh, _unique_ social skills.” Pidge shrugged. “The Garrison honest collects the strange geniuses.”

“And, uh, scholarship students like me,” Hunk added.

The bespectacled teen scoffed. “ _Half_ -scholarship in your case. And that’s because you haven’t had the chance to really _play_.” Pidge froze. “Um, that came out the worst way possible.”

“Yeah, but you’re honest, and that’s cool. I respect that.” Hunk reassured them, elbowing the slight frame gently. “And don’t think that I don’t know about the Gunderson Wunderkind. Okay, so, look. I feel bad about rushing and running into you—”

“It was the other way around, so—”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“Wait, _what_?! You _just_ met your soulmate, and you want to make a stranger dinner, when the stranger was the one who actually ran into _you_?” Pidge’s eyes narrowed.

“Not all soulmates meet and fuck like bunnies for a week,” Hunk replied with a laugh. “Look, Lance is also romantic and wants us to date for ‘at least two weeks’ he says, which I’m really down for because I love spoiling people.” The larger teen was blushing under his tan, happy for the chance to explain himself. 

Of course, just as Pidge was about to grudgingly allow someone to make them food that didn’t come out of a shady school kitchen, an achy echo of pain blossomed over their left eye and they groaned, taking glasses off and gently prodding at the lower bony structure of their eye socket. They’d felt it when someone had gotten that broken once, and thankfully, this wasn’t as bad as that time. “My fists are going to have some words for whoever landed this one.”

Hunk had hissed, but froze. That lack of movement made Pidge look up and . . .

Hunk’s left eye was bruised. He stared in shock at the little cadet before him before grabbing a hand. “Bathroom! Male, female, which?”

“Doesn’t matter! Need a mirror.”

Ten feet down the hall was the closest men’s room, and they skid to a halt in front of the mirrors, looking at their eyes, then each other’s reflection.

The mark was exactly the same, and Pidge pulled Hunk’s head down to run a finger over where they had bust open their chin when they were four. Finding the corresponding mark, they stopped breathing when Hunk traced the original scar on them. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. _Oh! Lance!_ ”

“Fuck! We gotta see if he’s okay!” Hunk didn’t grab or maneuver Pidge, respecting their ability to move (because it’s not like he wasn’t already crushing on them after seeing their self-defense assessment) while giving directions to their room in the second-year dorms. Within five minutes, they blew into the room and skidded to a halt at seeing the lanky teen draped over his bed. Lance had an ice-pack over his left eye while staring up at the ceiling with an expression on his face that combined dejection, humiliation, and regret.

He didn’t jump at the door opening, not even looking as he muttered softly, “Hi, Hunk. I was dumb and fucked up.” Turning his head, his good eye widened in shock. “Gunderson?”

“Well, I guess it’s ‘Pidge’ to you.” They crossed their arms over their chest with a sigh. At least they now had _some_ idea of some of the absurd injuries their soulmates were getting into. “Okay, which of you assholes broke your left hand?”

“Me,” Hunk replied, voice reverent. “Oh my God, I _thought_ that scar looked familiar, but you keep it really well-hidden.”

Pidge pulled off their uniform jacket, not caring that the edges of their binder was easily seen under the standard-issue undershirt. Pointing to the scars on the inside of their left forearm, they whispered hoarsely, “Who.”

Lance dropped the icepack and he and Hunk took off their jackets as well, showing matching soul-scars to Pidge’s own, though their pale skin showed the lines more clearly than the boys’ tanned tones.

“Neither of us,” Hunk replied.

Lance replaced the ice pack on his face. “Yeah. I was a basket case until we all started writing messages.” His voice went from hoarse down into a whisper. “I’m . . . I’m also having some trouble with . . . I mean, I was told _all my life_ that there was only one person for one person . . .”

Pidge had instant empathy for Lance. They moved closer to adjust the cloth softening the chill of the ice-pack against Lance’s eye. “You were taught that binary pairs were the only way for soulmates to happen, huh?” With a sigh, they sat next to Lance’s hips. “My family and I had theorized that there was more than three of us, but less than seven. Every day during some of the really bad times, we were looking for a black mark.”

“Me too,” Hunk whispered.

Pidge made direct eye contact with Lance. “I’m glad that there’s more than just me for you. I’m _really_ glad. I’m ace, I’m sex-repulsed, and I don’t even want a gender right now.”

“Pidge, I don’t think that I could handle two romantic relationships right now, anyway.” Lance was quick to reassure the third soulmate in his . . . Wow, he actually had a _cohort_. That was going to be weird but super cool. He was still shaky, but he calmed further when Hunk moved closer to run one hand through short hair, leaning into the touch with suspiciously-shiny eyes. “Can-can we be friends first, Pidge? See how that goes?”

“I’m very much okay with that.”

“Hunk struggled with himself before asking, “Can I hug you, though? I mean, does platonic physical touch bother you? If it does, that’s totally cool, but I’m also from a very huggy family, and know that Lance is, too, and if you don’t want touch at all, I’ll be doing my best to respect that, but I also would _like_ to hug you because I think that you’re fantastic, and you _totally_ already fit in with me and Lance, so is that okay, or if it’s not I mean you just have to tell me, I mean, _us_ —”

“Oh my God, Hunk,” Lance whispered, cutting him off. “You’re babbling and it’s fucking adorable, but Pidge is totally giggling too hard to answer you.”

It was true. Pidge was giggling.

They _snorted_.

Lance and Hunk fell apart into their own giggles, the tension breaking and all three relaxing. When Pidge finally had control of their voice, they replied, “I’m okay with hugs, Hunk. My family’s pretty tactile, too. Oh. Do we want to tell the Garrison about us?”

“Oh, _nope_. Not yet. I don’t want to deal with that paperwork,” Lance replied swiftly. “Not this early in the semester at least. Um. Can we tell our folks? I know that my parents would want to hear about this, but . . . they might be a bit less-than-accepting of more than one person?”

“We can totally tell my folks,” Hunk replied.

“Same with my Mom,” Pidge added. “And she lives close by, so we can drop by there at some point.” Maybe. If Pidge wanted to tell their soulmates about Kerberos and the alien chatter. “What’s your family like, Hunk?”

“Oh my god. My moms and dads are _wild_. Poly family like _woah_ , okay? It was my moms and one dad had me, and then my second dad _finally_ showed up later on. It all worked out pretty well for them, and they’ll adopt everything into the horde like the hooligans we are.” It was clear that Hunk was proud of his family, and that to have a balanced polyamorous relationship group was very important to him.

“You don’t have to sound so proud of that fact,” Lance grumbled, even though he was smiling. “I think that my family will ultimately accept this, but they’re going to have a hard time with it. Nobody’s had more than one partner in my town for generations. At least that I know of.”

“Fine. Anyone gives you shit about us or bitches about me being ace, you send them to _me_ ,” Pidge narrowed their gaze, eyes glittering.

“Um, no, I give you what’s _left_ of them to finish off, because I won’t be able to stop myself from breaking at _least_ their nose,” Lance retorted hotly.

“Okay, but quick talk about boundaries,” Hunk interjected, all seriousness and business. “Pidge, what are your physical touch and romantic boundaries?”

They ignored him, and Pidge retorted to Lance, “Look, you need to _not_ be fighting because that affects your pilot eligibility. You _saw_ how fast they washed Keith Kogane. Hell, I wasn’t even enrolled last year and I saw how fast they got rid of him for ‘disciplinary issues.’”

“Wow. I heard those air quotes.”

“I hate Iverson and I think he’s full of shit and his own ego. So shit.”

“I . . . oh, wow. Hunk, can we keep the gremlin?”

“Why the _fuck_ does everyone call me a _gremlin_?!”

“Because you are.”

“Look, I can get you into being an ace pilot and get Hunk into being the most sought-after mechanical engineer in our year.”

“Okay, so you’re our mastermind. I can get behind that.”

“Seriously, folks, can we focus more on the _us_ part and not the _who we’re beating up_ part?”

“Sh, Daddy and Spousey are talking,” Lance replied swiftly. “Pidge, how does any of our success in our fields benefit _you_?”

Hunk had smiled at Lance’s instant acceptance of Pidge in their lives. But Pidge looked ready to cry. They shook their head, not wanting to respond. Lance brushed his hand through the gingery hair, his voice soft. “You’re never going to fight alone again in your life, Pidge. Anyone says that asexuals don’t have a place with their soulmate will be eating their teeth. _Fuck_ them with a rusty jackhammer. Asexuals aren’t ‘broken,’ you’re not ‘unnatural,’ and nobody can say that you don’t have a place with me and Hunk.” He moved his hand down to hold Pidge’s.

“Look, I’m going to court you as non-romantically as possible,” Hunk replied. “I’m gonna make you comfort food, find you new tech, _try_ not to touch your current projects (but that’s going to be really hard because I can already tell that you’re _amazing_ at engineering and I’m drooling over what else your brain can do), and give you hugs and a safe place and remind you to take that binder off at the end of the days, because I _know_ what a broken rib bruise looks like, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve had two in the last year from you because you forgot.” He paused. “Unless you don’t want me to, in which case, I totally respect—”

“Hunk,” Pidge laughed, taking his hand. “Breathe. So long as you don’t start doing the super-mushy shit, I’m okay with you courting me a bit. And yeah, I forget to take my binder off and I’m sorry. I’d, uh . . . I don’t mind reminders?”

“Okay.” Lance squeezed Pidge’s hand. “Unless we _really_ screw this up, _please_ don’t put walls up between us?”

Pidge’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. Hunk tried to make himself look smaller. “Look, I think we’ve gotten to a good point, and lights-out is in two hours, but I have one more thing to say. I’d like to start a queer-platonic relationship with you. Maybe a _little_ romance by how I define it?”

“H-how do you define it?” Pidge held onto Hunk’s hand with a death-grip.

“Like how I said it earlier. Food, hanging out, talking, hugging?”

“Nothing else?”

“Platonic snuggles?”

“Only if your primary partn—”

“Nooooope,” Lance interrupted, jiggling Pidge’s hand to get their attention. “We all met _literally_ within twenty-four hours. There’s _no way_ Hunk and I are primary partners. This is an _equal thing_ , okay? I just have baggage to unpack and sort through.” He blushed. “And I love snuggling and if I get hard, please forgive me and don’t make fun of me and hand be a pillow so I can put it between us if that happens?”

“How are you already planning this?”

“My brain never stops.”

“Mood.”

“Same,” Hunk agreed.

Lance looked at them, then pulled the ice pack off. His eye wasn’t as swollen, but he’d have a brilliant shiner in the morning. “Okay. So. Talk to me, Pidge. I have an important question.”

“Okaaay?”

“Do you play video games?”

Hunk snorted, kissing Lance’s cheek and dropping a kiss to Pidge’s crown. “I’m going to get dinner started. You’ll be here a while.”

And when Pidge settled down for the night after curfew, they realized that none of the initial awkwardness had carried through the rest of the night. It was simply easy, no stress or pushing or anything outside of three people hanging out, including Hunk making miracles happen in the “dorm kitchen” that consisted of a toaster oven, a double hot plate, an electric kettle and a variety of other knick-knacks that seemed to be either antiques or so outrageously specialized that Pidge could only _guess_ at their function. It was cozy for them.

They still hated the whole system, no matter how amazing these two of their soulmates were. Hunk and Lance _respected_ their ace-agender stuff. Even their demiromantic tenancies were respected, and Hunk’s version of how he wanted to romance them was almost entirely platonic. It was weird. But like, the cutesy shit that Pidge had seen so many others do? It was nauseating. Hunk just liked spoiling the important people in his life.

Pidge couldn’t _wait_ to tell Mom about their soulmates.

They fell asleep with a smile on their face for the first time in over a year.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured that I'd get another couple chapters up before I go off-grid for four days. I might get another chapter up tomorrow.
> 
> Beware, lots of fluff incoming. I regret nothing.

Pidge stared hard at their laptop before sighing. The guys would figure out soon enough that they’re not exactly who they said that they were. And that was a bit of a problem. Just a bit. They had started including Hunk and Lance with them on their clandestine after-curfew monitoring of frequencies permeating Earth’s atmosphere. It was frightening on a level that there wasn’t more talk about this anywhere online, but then again, most of the people who would _want_ to know if there was life “out there” would probably already be working for the Galaxy Garrison, and if they _were_ here, then they were probably listening to the same things Pidge was . . . and not talking about it to _anyone_.

The chatter that during the late-night alien surveillance sessions had started getting excited in the last week. There was something going on outside of their solar system, something _big_ , and Pidge . . . Pidge couldn’t do this alone anymore.

They needed their boys to help.

That was a scary thought.

The dorm door opened, admitting Bri’s bag as a thrown item onto the bunk before Bri herself sauntered in. That saunter meant trouble, and usually for someone else. The Californian girl not only could take care of herself, but had the temper to make sure that any lessons _stuck_. “Pidge, why are boys dumb?”

Snorting, Pidge went back to the signal analysis before tonight’s scanning session. “Don’t ask me.” Leaning back, they pulled their glasses off to clean the lenses. “I’ve got two masculine soulmates. They’re teenage boys, and I don’t think that their brains run for more than ten minutes without hormones wiping the slate clean. I don’t understand them, either.”

“Yeah, but you’re like, part male. So you should have an in for me. C’mon.”

Pidge snorted. Bri sassed at them like Matt had done, and the familiar humor, while potentially offensive to some, soothed a part of Pidge’s heart. “I like you, so I’ll let that slide.”

“You like me because I’m a female version of you.”

“Not wrong. Okay, so I’m agender. I don’t know _why_ guys or girls or whatever their gender is stupid. _Humans_ are stupid in general.”

With a more delicate snort and a grin, Bri flopped onto her bed, avoiding the bookbag and the other various equipment that gathered there. “Fair enough. How goes hacking?”

“Meh. How was avionics?”

“Meh. This is all review for me. I learned some of this stuff when I was, like, five.”

“Ugh. Take your genius and get out.”

“Like you didn’t test out of year one here. I just wish that I could test out of this class, since it’s booooring, and the teacher isn’t going to talk about anything other than the basics.”

“Well, it’s a prereq for a reason.” Pidge turned at a notification that popped up in their phone.

Hunk’s orange chat window was flashing with a single letter message. _[B!]_

That jerk. How dare he look out for them. Huffing a laugh, Pidge typed back, _[already off, like, an hour ago]_

_[yay! food in 30]_

Getting up with a groan, Pidge saved their work and began clearing off their bed. As with most dinner-dates, they would get back to the dorms just before the lights-out curfew and be ready to just fall into bed. If the schedule was right for everyone and the weather was good, they’d go up on top of the building tonight. But if not? Lance had some serious skill with scalp and shoulder massages, and it was something physical that wasn’t sexual or romantic or anything other than Lance being Lance and wanting some physical touch. That was one of their compromises, and it worked out well for them. And it had the amazing effect of making Pidge sleep like a baby for eight hours.

“I’m being harangued for dinnertime. You good if I use the shower now?”

“Yeah, have at. I’m _still_ jealous that not only do you have a soulmate that cooks, but one that also knows how to massage.”

Grabbing lounging clothes, which included a sweatshirt that Pidge had “stolen” from Lance, the hacker paused before going into the en-suite bathroom. “I’m not sharing Lance, but we can try to organize a potluck one of the weekends before we have the holiday break?”

Bri perked up, then narrowed her eyes. “No. _I’ll_ organize the potluck. _You_ just met your soulmates and should continue getting to know these two. I’ve known mine for two years. Get. Go enjoy your shower.”

By the time that Pidge got to the guys’ dormroom, they still hadn’t figured out if they should tell the duo or not about their dilemma. They waited in front of the door for long minutes, until Lance himself stopped beside Pidge, not moving to open the door. He waited for something to be said, but when Pidge didn’t move or make eye contact, he bumped his elbow to their shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

“No.”

Lance blinked, elbowing Pidge again. “I’m not dismissing that, but Hunk needs inspiration for dessert tonight.”

“Peanut butter cookies.”

“Wow. Really bad day, huh?”

“Sorta.”

Lance opened the door, offering the elbow he had been prodding Pidge with as an old-fashioned gesture. They took it slowly, allowing him to lead them into the room, then onto Lance’s lap once he was seated at the small table. The fact that they curled closer broke the part of Lance’s heart that was owned entirely by his favorite gremlin. He tightened his hold, snuggling them against his heartbeat. “Hunk, we demand peanut-butter cookies. Work your magic.”

“Thank God that someone finally chose dessert. Here, Pidge; try this.”

“What is it?”

“Stovetop chili, and I used some pretty spicy peppers in this nonsense. This should wake the dead.”

Pidge, now a month into relationship with these two idiots, was happy to try the chili. Hunk never disappointed with what he claimed to have created. And this? Was divine. “Hunk. This is perfect.”

“Awesome! Okay, what pissed you off?”

“I’m afraid.”

Hunk blinked, tapped the clean spoon off of Pidge’s nose, and turned back to start dishing the chili. “Why?”

“Because I have a secret and I’m scared that you’ll both view me differently.”

“Well, we’re not like we’ve been childhood friends and know _everything_ about each other. We don’t know enough about each other yet to really have any solid—”

“My name is Katie Holt. My dad is Sam Holt and my brother is Matt Holt.”

Lance stiffened slightly, then turned and peered around at Pidge’s face. “You got . . .” He narrowed his gaze and grinned broadly in the most cat-got-the-canary shit-eating grin. “You had no glasses, long hair, and a _bitchin’_ death-glare when they caught you hacking last year. I’m still in awe that you got as far as you did”

“Yeah. I failed.”

“No, you _attempted_ something without both proper backup _and_ a proper lookout, and by no fault of your own, since I know that they changed a _lot_ of procedures after your hacking attempt, you were outsmarted by people who have had more experience than you at subterfuge.” Lance smoothed a hand through still-damp hair, soothing Pidge with motions as well as words. “So you’re really here to look for Matt and Officers Holt and Shirogane.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. We’re in.”

“. . . what?”

Hunk set down two bowls of chili topped with shredded cheese, then grabbed his own portion and a plate of buttered, crusty bread to put in the center of the table. “So. You want to find your father and brother. We have no reason _not_ to help you because the Kerberos mission just _reeks_ of a cover-up.”

Pidge felt their eyes sting, and their vision began to blur. “You . . . you don’t . . .”

“No, we _do_.” Lance hugged Pidge closer. “Does your mom have any black soulmate marks?”

“One, from before I was born. But the Garrison didn’t believe that it was valid, and tried saying that it was dad’s death-mark. But it’s not. She had that mark on . . . back on _that night_ and showed me what it looked like in case we lost someone that night.”

“Then your dad is still alive. And if your dad is, then Shiro and Matt have to be, too.” Lance dared a kiss to Pidge’s nose. “We’ll find them.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New brand of fluff: domestic.
> 
> This AU murders me in the sweetest way. And it's just about to start heating up.

Food shopping for Lance and Pidge was a joy for Hunk. He loved finding a way to make a simple base for a meal, then dress it up for their individual tastes. Right now, Pidge was _all_ about sweet Thai chili sauce, and Lance wanted more Cuban and Cuban-fusion flavors. Both Hunk and Pidge were sensitive to Lance’s homesickness, so they helped him in different ways. Hunk made homestyle food, and Pidge would help distract their goofy, sweet soulmate with video games and some of the most amusing sparring matches that would have all three crying with laughter.

Lance was a treasure. Insecure and earnest, he would by turns cling to Hunk or Pidge or push them away. Pidge had reassured Hunk that this wasn’t The Actual Worst, and that they’d once witnessed a soulmate had entirely repudiating their partner. Lance was just trying to figure out how to make it work without feeling like he was being selfish. He spoiled both of his partners equally, and would apologize for his behavior while trying to adjust it when he had the mental energy to spare for fixing himself.

Hunk reached for a new bag of rice, his hand colliding with another’s on the way up. “Oh! Dude, I’m sorry.” He stared at the person beside him. “Holy shit. Keith Kogane?”

Before the other teen could say anything, a message flowered over Hunk’s hand. They had one “soul pen” to share among the three of them, and it was used only when . . . oh, he’d forgotten his phone at the dorm again. Whoops. He shook his head with a sigh. “That gremlin’s coffee addiction just isn’t healthy. I _knew_ they’d finish that canister off in the next two days, but _today_? I’m gonna have a _‘talk’_ with them . . .” Checking the list in his hand, he caught a glance at Keith, who was . . . paler than usual? “Dude, you okay?”

Keith stared hard at Hunk, then pulled out his Bic pen cap and scratched a checkmark on the back of his hand next to the message of _Hunk get coffee so I don’t piss off Iverson._

The check-mark showed up on Hunk’s skin. He didn’t grab at Keith’s hand, but simply stared at it, then at his own, and then up to make eye contact.

Keith was frozen, pencap clutched between shaking, bloodless fingertips. Hunk let him take his left hand, comparing the Famous Engine Incident scar to the mark on his pale skin matching the uneven edges. “Do you know how many of us there are?”

“We thought four, possibly five. There’s three of us at the Garrison right now.”

“Five so far as I know, then. I know our fifth.”

“Wow,” Hunk breathed. “Five? Where are they?”

Keith looked heartbroken, and he could only shake his head. “Not here, and not safe.”

Hunk seemed to have already come to that conclusion, as he had simply nodded and released a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t like that, and I think you like that less than me since you already know this person.”

“It’s a guy. He’s . . .”

“You don’t have to tell me, dude. If he’s in danger, his identity doesn’t matter. If me knowing who he is can get him in worse trouble, I don’t wanna know his name. What matters is that we find a way to help him,” Hunk brushed the pads of his fingers over the back of Keith’s hand, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. He was surprised when Keith reached up, eyes determined and terrified, to brush his hair away from his face, brushing his cheek on the way down while maintaining eye contact. Fear and hope warred in indigo depths, face still trying to hide any emotion outside of a scowl. Hunk smiled at this, catching the smaller hand in one of his for a reassuring squeeze before letting go. “Is there anything we can do for him now?”

“No.”

“Okay. Then I’m going to rope you into my grocery shopping. I cook for my genius-level idiots, and since you were at the Garrison, that now includes you, too.”

“For which part, the genius or the idiot?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Jerk.”

“Your jerk.”

“Your mom was a jerk.”

“My moms can kick your ass. My dads will watch and make hors d’oeuvres.”

Keith couldn’t help the huff of laughter, and he found himself swept along with Hunk after the taller teen had grabbed a _much_ larger bag of rice. “That’s fair.”

“So. I’m making dinner at the Holt’s tonight, since we’re off this weekend and needed to get away from the Garrison politics.”

“Oh my God, how are you able to handle that?”

“I duck my head down and show them the personality that they want to see. I know that wasn’t your style, though. But this is good, because I kinda-sorta need a civilian soulmate outside of the Garrison to help keep me sane.”

That was a lie, and both knew it. But the Garrison was a little scary with how many ears they employed, so it was less of a lie and more of an acknowledgement that Hunk needed help with getting his hands on something that the Garrison didn’t want anyone to get.

“Wait, the Holt’s house? I, uh, I know Colleen.”

Hunk paused along the condiments, checking his list, then eyeballing brands before settling upon an import, paying a little extra for it but it was one of three brands that Pidge had personally approved. “You don’t have to come if it makes you uncomfortable, Keith.”

“I’m—”

“I can always leave you some food there and you can pick it up later.”

Keith stopped walking, and Hunk turned to face him. “Hunk, why are you doing this for me? You _just_ met me.”

“Nope. Not ‘just’ met you. We’ve been talking for _years_ , Keith, but I just didn’t know your name or face. I want to help you because you’re ours, and we’re yours.”

“Are . . . are the others there already?”

“Naw, they’re finishing up their first final of the semester for a class that I took last semester, and won’t be at Colleen’s before seven or eight, depending on which shuttle they’re able to catch. I took public transit to get here and Colleen said she’d pick me up when I was done.” He blushed a little, fidgeting with the handles of the basket he carried. “Can . . . can I make you something? Some food, I mean?”

“Oh my God, _yes_. I’m fucking _starving_ and I _suck_ at cooking.”

Hunk burst into snickers. “I got you. And I’ll show you how I’m making everything tonight. I’ll keep it simple for you, and write down the recipe and some ideas on how to dress it up. Where are you staying?”

“A shack in the desert. Turns out that once I was emancipated, my dad’s estate was released to me. So that’s my own spit of land to rule.”

“Badass. No mom?”

“She died when I was a kid. She was cremated, and Dad never set up a headstone for her. He said that she was a free spirit and hated graveyards, and he scattered her ashes somewhere that meant a lot to both of them. He never told me where, only that he’d bring me when I was old enough to make the journey. Why the hell am I telling you all this? I’ve only told this to our other soulmate.”

“Isolation in the desert makes social creatures like us a little strange,” Hunk replied. “Besides, I think the only person you ever really opened up to that I know of was Shiro, but that guy could make rocks spout honey. And you’re a pretty secretive guy anyway.”

“What _do_ you know about me?”

“Keith Kogane, ace pilot, orphan, tragic life story, cadets and even a TA or five swooned over you.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah. Lance—”

“Competitive lanky kid? Cuban?”

“And he’s one of your soulmates, man.”

“Oh. Great. He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“Probably frustrated by you. He doesn’t hate many things.” Hunk had started moving again. “Give him a chance; he’s trying to adjust to going from no soulmates to having two of them around. He never really processed that he could have more than one romantic partner.”

“Wait, what? We’ve known for _years_ that there was a chunk of us.”

“I know. My theory is that he didn’t realize we’d all be _this_ freaking awesome.”

Snorting, Keith shook his head. “Probably more than likely that he was told that he could have a _lot_ of soulmates, but only one would be a love-match, and all the rest _had_ to be platonic or sibling relationships.”

He and Hunk had been neutral around each other last semester, and had been able to work well with each other’s personalities before the more volatile teen had been washed out by the administrative team. Shiro had been the only one who could corral and focus Keith’s attention and energy. Taking a sigh, Keith replied, “I’ll stop by. Matt and I were good friends and I haven’t checked up on Katie. They’re bound to have gotten into trouble without proper supervision.”

Hunk snorted. “That’s a truth. You’ll really _love_ hearing what they’re up to, but I’m not spoiling any secrets.” Grabbing some snacks that had some decent nutritional value, he made sure to get quantities that would feed all four of them. Keith followed along, and their conversation dissolved into small talk, comments and bursts of quiet laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it. I want to share some Soft!Heith. These two kinda stole my brain unexpectedly.

Keith ended up giving Hunk a ride to the Holt’s, carefully stowing the groceries away in a compartment while giving his passenger a brief safety and etiquette rundown. Hunk hadn’t felt _too_ sick, and honestly wondered how much of his motion sickness was simply due to Lance’s still-young piloting skills.

Once they arrived, Colleen had made a big to-do about Keith finally “coming home,” and fussed over him. Within half an hour, he had been seated at the kitchen counter with a piping hot Turkish coffee and a handful of cookies. (Hunk had a sudden understanding of where Pidge’s caffeine addiction came from.) The mother alternately spent time helping Hunk with prep and invading Keith’s personal space with enveloping hugs. It had been almost a year since they had last seen each other, and the teen felt awful about avoiding the Holt residence.

Colleen waved that off. “Keith, I know how close you were with Shiro, and I know how well you and Matt got along. Losing them hurts.”

Hunk shoved the last casserole dish into the oven to crisp the top layer before walking over and offering his hand palm up over the island. Keith had removed his gloves with nervous motions on the walk up to the front door from where he had parked the skimmer, and Hunk had removed his in order to cook. The contact was subtly electrifying when Keith’s slightly-damp palm met Hunk’s dry, broad palm. Hunk moved around the end of the counter so that they didn’t have to stretch so far, thumb making slow, smooth strokes over the paler skin. His presence gave Keith the bravery to ask softly, “Which hearts are yours?”

Grinning, Hunk replied, “The bunches of balloon hearts on strings.”

“Oh my god, that fits so well.”

“Right?!”

The front door slammed open, voices filtering down the short hallway towards the kitchen and living room area. Hunk leaned down and brushed a soft kiss to Keith’s cheek before releasing his hand. The indigo eyes darkened and the pale face bloomed into a magnificent blush as he shoved his hands into his biker gloves again. They hid the most telling of all the visible soulmate scars. “Unfair, Hunk!”

“Damn right!”

“Keith!”

The young man was knocked off of the chair with a flying tackle that landed both himself and the person who had tackled him half-under the kitchen table a few feet away. Keith pulled his head back far enough to see the identity of the small form in the Garrison uniform. “Woah, what? _Katie?!_ Jesus, kid, what are you doing at _that_ shithole?” Despite the words, Keith was laughing as he squeezed them in a hug. “You cut your hair!”

“You stopped coming by to brush it!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You suck.”

“I do. Happily. Sorry, Mrs. Holt.”

“Gross,” Pidge groaned.

“Gay? Duh? Not all of us can be as enlightened as you, Oh Asexual One.”

“Woah, woah, Pidge . . . you know Kogane?” Lance peeked under the table, seeing how the two held each other with a level of comfort that Pidge hadn’t reached with either himself or Hunk.

“Keith, Shiro, and Matt were all good friends, and he came over a lot while everyone was preparing for the Kerberos mission.” Pidge snuggled in closer. “He runs hotter than some other humans, and would make me nests and warm them up for me when I got sick before Matt had been chosen for the mission.”

Keith locked his arms around Pidge. “I was an ass for ghosting. I’m not used to having family who sticks with me like you guys did. I’m really, really sorry Katie.”

“Mm. Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.”

“Also, meet two of my soulmates, Hunk and Lance.”

“Hunk didn’t say he was yours—”

“Ex _cuse_ me, Keith, they’re _mine_ —”

“Hunk. Be realistic.”

“Okay, so I’m theirs.”

_“Anyway,”_ Keith rolled his eyes. “I thought that you were just friends with him.”

“Yeah. I’m not really Katie anywhere but here, now. I’m called Pidge Gunderson when we’re at the Garrison.”

“Colleen created a new identity for you?”

“Yup.”

“Nice. Explains your stunning regard for rules.”

“Keith, any news about Shiro?” Colleen reached down to ruffle her spawn’s hair, moving to do the same for the quiet boy that Matt had folded into the Holt family. She _loved_ being known as a bad influence when she kept up such a spotless persona as a “Garrison Spouse.” Keith hoped that she wouldn’t go into detail about him and Shiro . . . He knew she had sworn secrecy to Shiro, but he hadn’t had a chance to follow up with her about which secrets she would continue keeping.

“Nothing. I’ve been working on other projects for a few other things that aren’t adding up. There’s some weird energy popping up on some scanners I’ve set up around my house, and it’s like nothing I’ve seen before, so I’m trying to track down the origin in my spare time. I don’t think it’s anything human, though.”

“Wow. You and Pidge _do_ believe in alien conspiracy theories, don’t you,” Lance murmured in shock. He was the next recipient of Colleen’s affection, with a kiss first to his cheek and then to his forehead. 

“They’re not theories if I’ve been monitoring alien chatter,” Pidge replied testily, glaring over the frames of their glasses. “Hell, you’ve _heard_ alien languages on that recording I showed you just yesterday. But I’ll give you that there’s a conspiracy without any of the tin-foil-hat level of paranoia involved.”

“No shit, you found their frequencies?” Keith sat up a bit but they were interrupted by Colleen. “I want to see if they match what I’ve been recording.”

“You two wait until after dinner to compare notes.” She turned back to Lance. “You keeping watch over my kid?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he replied proudly.

“Hunk, you feeding my Cuban boy enough homestyle foods to keep up with his metabolism?”

“You bet!” Hunk looked proud of this fact.

“Pidgeon—”

“Ask Hunk his worst grade,” they replied proudly.

Colleen raised an eyebrow and Hunk grinned. “It’s an eighty-two average in an elective communications course. Everything else is a ninety-four average, and I’m ahead on my assignments.”

Pidge grinned and pointed to Lance. “Tell Mom what you did yesterday!”

Lance blushed. “I have a ninety-eight in Navigation.”

Keith just _stared_ at this boy. “Navigation with Rickman?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Shit!_ I never got above an eighty-five with that asshole!”

“Pidge did you make me better than _Keith_?! I love you!”

“Gross. Love. Ew.”

“Says the gremlin who steals all my heat because I love them,” Hunk interjected, pulling Lance closer to wrap arms around the thin waist.

“Oh, good to see that Pidge’s love declarations are still interchangeable with heat-leeching. Have you dealt with the Icecube Toes, too?”

“Oh my God, those are the _worst_ ,” Hunk groaned. “Movie nights are _entirely_ interrupted!”

Lance relaxed back against Hunk, watching how the Garrison “dropout” had maneuvered himself and Pidge to sit against the kitchen island. “Wow. You’re super different than when you were at the Garrison, Keith.”

Hunk tapped Lance’s hip twice, his voice a hiss. “Lance, _manners_.”

“I don’t know you yet, and I have a lot of reasons why I was stressed out at the Garrison. None of which I feel like going into until I’m sure you’re not going to go and blab gossip about why I really left that place.” Keith pulled Pidge’s glasses off of their face and began massaging their scalp as a way to distract himself and keep his hands from reaching out and strangling the tan boy. “Kid, you’re pushing yourself too hard. Matt and Shiro would be harassing you about your shitty habits if they were here right now.”

“Well, then fucking step up.”

“What do you think I’m _trying_ to do?”

“Massage my scalp while wearing bike gloves. Which is a new modality for you. Do you charge extra for the leather kink?”

“Katie!” Colleen gasped.

“Mom!” Pidge mocked back gently, grinning.

Keith shook his head. “Like you don’t think that they’ve found some, uh, _things_ while hacking, Mrs. Holt.” He shrugged. “What name do you want me to use, and are you using the same pronouns?”

“Pidge is good. And so long as the pronouns aren’t feminine, I’m good.”

“Cool.” He stopped massaging long enough to hug them. It was good to be home with some of the people he considered his family. Keith just wished he was brave enough to tell them all who he was to them.

And who Shiro will be to them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **BODY HORROR TIME.** And vomiting being mentioned. Okay, so there's a LOT of body horror in this chapter. Scroll down to the bottom note for the spoiler reason. There's no real way to get around the subject material, so if you're not sure you can handle it, skip this chapter entirely.
> 
> **OTHER CHAPTER WARNINGS** Talk about consensual sexual acts performed between minors. It's implied that two teens have had sex more than once, and one just-barely-adult talks about wanting to have sex with their cohort members despite age differences. Nothing more than talk happens. I can't write serious smut.

It was a well-known and warned fact that if an injury was bad enough, the pain was shared between soulmates. It happened at least once a semester at the Garrison that a soulmate dropped. Their soulmate could be across the globe, or the next gym over taking a combat final. There were measures in place for these occasional drops, they were documented carefully for medical reasons, but it wasn’t really anything gossip-worthy.

What _wasn’t_ documented was who a minor’s soulmate _was_.

So when three students taking a simulation all dropped at the same time that a flash of a new scar etched itself across the bridge of their noses, it sent the Garrison into a frenzy. All three students were in a full shock, bodies processing pain that clearly wasn’t _theirs_ , since the originating injury was on a fourth party. This prompted the medical team to hustled the trio into a private room and away from prying eyes. There’d be enough gossip confirming that Hunk, Lance, and Pidge were soulmates of a larger cohort to go around without letting people see the fallout.

The worst part about this situation was that the largest publicly-listed cohorts tapped out at four members. With three members of a cohort concentrated in one location, it was indicative from examples throughout history that there were up to three, four, even _eight_ other members of the cohort _elsewhere_. This fact caused the administration no little concern, as large cohorts coming together had often indicated large-scale problems in the order of the world that would need a large soul-bound group to manage.

Myth and legend often melded with historical records for some of the groups listed. Some of the most prevalent among the debate of real versus allegory included the twelve Authurian Knights and the fourteen soulmates that wandered around the Galilean region around 30 CE challenging the current religious order of things. But there were examples in pre-modern media such as the Seven Samurai, many of the high-ranking officers in various _Star Trek_ serials, and the kids in The Breakfast Club. Every time you had five or more soulmates, it was going to be a very, very bad time. And it would be an even _worse_ time for whoever probably earned the smackdown.

But these three, they were just _too young_ for the calling into that life, and the sheer _strength_ of their scar-reaction made even the most experienced medical staffer shudder. 

Their reaction-stupor wore off within fifteen minutes of being in a private setting. Hunk was the first one that resurfaced, shaking his head as if to clear it while refusing to answer questions. His hand brushed the edge of the new scar and he shied away from his own touch with a wince. Lance was the next one awake. He kept the tears from falling until Hunk had hugged him, then buried his face against a generous shoulder. When Pidge came around with a wave of silent tears, it made the attending medics _very_ nervous until the Hawaiian teen literally picked up the smallest member of their cohort and sat down with them in his lap. Lance curled close to press his forehead to Pidge’s and his arm around the back of their shoulders.

They were released with emergency leave granted, starting their weekend on a Thursday. It wasn’t until almost an hour after the incident began that the angry red of the scar faded into the more-normal pink. By that point, they had changed out of their uniforms and felt a collective wave of nausea when they saw their right arms. Long sleeves went on almost immediately, including the rare henley Hunk had bought for the colder nights. Lance quickly escaped to the bathroom to puke, then returned to apply his Titi’s Hippie Goo onto their new scars, soothing the ache. He pressed his lips together, braving the dizzying sight of moving scars to soothe the pain. Every minute or so, one of the trio would eyeball the bathroom door and draw in a deep, soothing breath to try to ease the acid back.

Whoever their fifth was, the injury to that arm was messy and not finalized and they’d probably lose the damn thing.

Once Lance finished, he was ordered to a seat and kept Pidge on his lap while Hunk pulled bedding apart and began making a nest for his soulmates. He always wanted to be the provider, to take care of his soulmates in the home and when their hearts needed the extra love, and to be able to do this for them? It helped him feel better about the pain that still radiated across his face and the odd numbness that came in waves down his right arm. He was glad that Lance had a stronger stomach for this, and said so very softly, not expecting a response and not getting one. After a moment, he eyeballed the layout of the room, then shook his head. Pushing the beds together wouldn’t be productive.

With the majority of the setup completed, Hunk carried Pidge over, then helped Lance snuggle in. While they settled themselves, he finished pulling together a bunch of cooling cloths, snacks, drinks, and some handheld games and tablets. His motions slowed when he put the last thing down, realizing that he had just planned for Pidge and Lance without planning for himself. That was when he knew what his subconscious was guiding him towards.

Lance had Pidge curled up against his warmth and under his chin, his arms around their frame to keep them locked close. “Hunk, I know you’ve been texting our fourth.”

“And he’s coded in a threat to me that he’ll wipe every harddrive I own if I hack any communications, so I’m good with trying to figure out who they are.” Pidge’s voice was rough, raspy against Lance’s neck. Their eyes were half-swollen shut from crying.

Hunk flushed as he wrung out a cool cloth and placed it over their eyes, ashamed for hiding this. “Guys, I—”

“No, don’t apologize,” Lance reached one hand out to grasp Hunk’s. “Please, I . . . I know you’re just trying to look out for everyone. I know you’re trying to coordinate so that I’m not overwhelmed.”

“Lance . . .”

His blue gaze smiled warmly, despite the pain still etching lines at the corners of his eyes. “I’m not jealous, and I’m not insecure. I . . . I know it’ll take time for me to sweep them off of their feet.” He tried, the kid actually _tried_ to make himself look flirty and sweet, and Hunk loved him all the more for that. Leaning in to kiss the frown between Lance’s eyebrows, he straightened.

Pidge unearthed one hazel eye to grab Hunk’s attention. “Lance and I will be okay here. I don’t want _anyone_ alone after that pain. Use mom as an alibi.”

Lance nodded his full agreement, entirely serious. “Get the extra jar of Goo that Titi sent us last month.”

“And Mom’s WTF Rub she sent over last week. I can get more.”

Hunk was moving around, also grabbing some of his cooking supplies. He had a rough idea of what appliances Keith had stocked in his kitchen, and it was _shameful_. “I’m going to cook up something for them that’ll last a few days. I _hope_ to be home before midnight.”

“We won’t wait up for you,” Pidge vowed. “If you need to burrow in, don’t hesitate.”

Hunk ran his hand through Pidge’s hair, leaning in to press his forehead to their’s, shocked when they moved and pressed their lips shyly against his cheek. Voice low, he whispered, “I’ll take care of them.”

“You already do,” Pidge whispered. “I know the kind of person you are.”

“Give them hugs from us,” Lance added on. “I’ve a feeling that they’ll need it.”

~*~

When Hunk ended up on Colleen’s doorstep, he had been welcomed with a firm hug and a woman who had a plan once she saw the new scar and had been reassured that Pidge was settled down. She told Hunk to grab whatever he needed from her kitchen, and that she’d handle the rest of the packing for what Keith would need later on. In under fifteen minutes, Hunk not only had a fully-stocked skimmer, but also the keys in hand and a set of spare goggles that had belonged to Sam Holt. “I know you’ve been working on keeping this up for Pidge, so you know her quirks. I’ve programmed in Keith’s home GPS location, but also with some secondary locations that he could have been in when this happened.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m glad he trusts you.”

“I’m Colleen or Mom, not ma’am for you. Get going.” She brushed her hand across the apple of one cheek. “Go.”

When Hunk had pulled up to the shack in the middle of _a Goddamn desert Keith you weren’t lying_ , he was glad to see a soft light in one of the windows. He parked close to the porch, flinging himself off of it and almost through the door. Stopping himself with hands on the doorframe, he called, “Keith! Keith, it’s Hunk, just me, nobody else. Keith!”

Silence, then a soft word. “In.”

Opening the door, Hunk carefully rushed in, seeing Keith with an ice pack over his eyes. “Oh, baby boy.” Sinking to his knees, he wiped the tears away from where they had escaped from under the now-warm packet of goo. “Oh, handsome, I’m so sorry you were alone.”

“Do-do they know now? About me?”

“No. No, baby, they don’t. They didn’t even ask, didn’t want to know until you’re ready to join us.” Hunk gently peeled the “ice” pack away from Keith’s face to inspect the scar. “Have you been crying this whole time?”

“Y-yeah. Don’t tell.”

“I won’t, I promise I won’t.” He traced one tear track. “But let’s get you cleaned up a bit and wash your face off at the very least. I have some things to ease the pain and to help the scar stop throbbing, if you’d like.”

“Hunk,” Keith whispered, hand gripping the bigger teen’s arm. It was a broken noise, raspy with pain. “Hunk, it’s _Shiro_.”

Hunk’s hands paused in trying to lever Keith up to a sitting position, leaving them in an awkward middle place between sitting up and lying down. Then, with a low noise that mirrored Keith’s pain, he pulled the loner close into a sudden embrace, both trembling. “Oh my god. Keith, He’s . . . he’s _alive_?”

“And Matt. And Sam. They’re still alive, last I could find. That was months ago.”

“Oh my _God_.”

“He’s in so much pain. They’re . . .”

“They? The Kerberos crew?”

Keith shook his head. “Aliens. Aliens have them. Shiro and I would wait until you three were asleep to message each other. We had to be super careful.”

Hunk had frozen in place. “Pidge is going to _lose their shit_.” Hunk paled, drawing back. “ _You_ told me you were getting into bar fights and that you were _careful_ about treating your injuries!”

“Yeah. I lied. I’m a shitty soulmate—”

“Bullshit.” Hunk’s gaze hardened. “You tell me what you need from the Garrison. Nobody will believe that I’m a willing accomplice in anything, even Pidge and Lance. We gotta find out _everything_ we can about the Kerberos mission to help Shiro and the Holts.” He wiped away some stray tears that still fell from violet eyes. Gently hauling Keith up, Hunk stood with the smaller teen in his arms, looking around and realizing that he was just standing there, with a soulmate cradled close to his heartbeat. “Oh. Uh. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Put me down. You’re _not_ carrying me.”

“Yeah, uh, too late for that.”

“Oh my God, Hunk.”

The engineer dropped a kiss to Keith’s forehead (since it was entirely within reach), making the ace pilot blush and quiet down. “Let me spoil you. This is important to me.”

“Only if you let me help you somehow,” Keith replied, somehow finding himself relaxing in Hunk’s competent hold. It was _safe_ there, he realized. And he hadn’t felt safe since that final night before the Kerberos mission. The first night he had slept beside Shiro. The only night.

“You’re helping me by letting me care for you.”

Huffing a laugh, Keith let his cheek rest against Hunk’s shoulder. “You drive a hard bargain, big man.” He let himself be maneuvered onto the toilet seat and his cold, sweat-soaked shirt peeled away and tossed into a corner.

Hunk paused, touching the soulmate scar that ran around Keith’s bicep in a much cleaner line than the seething mess of shifting, sickening scars that had crawled along their skin earlier in the night. He didn’t have to check his own arm to know that he’d have a matching scar. But by all the many and varied gods, Hunk was not looking forward to bringing Keith’s attention to what the scar looked like . . . what it indicated. “Keith.”

The young man drew a shaking breath, eyes squeezed shut. “Does it look worse?”

“Yeah. You need to see. I’m sorry, but you have to look. It’ll be easier.”

A pale hand traced the mark, pupils blowing wide in fear and shock as Keith followed the gradient-colored scarring. Purple closer towards his fingers, lighter-pink closer to the shoulder. His stomach lurched. “Oh shit. Oh, Hunk, fuck, _fuck_ , Hunk I’m gonna—”

Moving fast, Hunk got Keith kneeling with his head over the shower drain, supporting his hips and shoulders when Keith’s limbs went weak and limp with the force of his heaves. “I got ya, buddy. Let it out. That’s it. I’m so sorry, Keith.” He pressed a kiss to the back of one sweat-slick shoulder. “You’re not alone. I’m here. God, I’m so sorry. _God_ , Keith, I’m so, _so_ sorry.” Hunk soothed Keith through helpless sobs and dry heaves, ending up curling around the slighter teen’s back, warming his clammy skin. When he felt the shaking and the heaves slow, he whispered, “You need some water. We’ll help Shiro. We’ll help him in any way that we can. You and he deserve all the love and support we can give you guys.”

“God _damnit_ , will you stop being so fucking _selfless_?!” Keith exploded, voice raspy and cracking.

“Ha! You only _think_ that I’m being selfless.” Hunk pressed his cheek against Keith’s shoulder, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m _not_. I’m being really fucking selfish because I’m going to demand a price out of you and Shiro. You just haven’t asked what that price is.” He sat back on his heels, arms secure around Keith’s waist to support him as he settled the former Garrison student on his lap. “I want you and Shiro to really make an effort to integrate with me, Lance, and Pidge. That’s my price. Step up when _and only when_ the two of you are settled with each other again.”

Keith blushed, but let his head fall back onto Hunk’s broad, comforting shoulder. The intimacy of their positions was well-known to both of them, and both fought down their embarrassment to hold onto each other tighter. Keith held onto Hunk’s arms with his right arm, his left going up and around the back of the Hawaiian’s head, fingers weaving through his hair. Keith’s voice, rusty and ruined from tears and vomit, was barely above a whisper. “We can do that.”

“I know, man.” Hunk pressed another chaste kiss to Keith’s shoulder. “He’s going to need a _lot_ of support, even though we can’t do much of anything right no—oooh, my _God_ , we _can_!”

Keith’s eyes widened. “Left arm!”

Hunk’s hand covered the scar on Keith’s right arm. “What about legs, or hips? Like . . . like back then?”

Shaking his head, Keith sighed. “Safe spots are probably covered in some way, and while you might not have immediately noticed, Shiro doesn’t respond to messages unless they were on his forearms. So he’s probably got some sort of bodysuit on.”

“You taught us well, though.”

“I wish that I hadn’t had to.”

They sat in silence until a full-body shiver ran over Keith. Hunk carefully stood them up, pulling the hippie goo out of one of the many pockets in his civvie mechanic’s pants and leaving it on the spare soap tray by the sink. “Use that to soothe the scars after you take that shower; I’ll get the few on your back after I feed you some dinner, if-if you’d like, that is.”

Keith wanted to punch whoever had _ever_ made Hunk doubt himself square in the nose. His hand held firmly onto Hunk’s much larger one. “In . . . uh . . . full disclosure, because I have the feeling that your resolve is better than mine? I’d really like to get my mind off of Shiro and fuck. But that’s . . . that’s really out of order and out of line.”

Hunk’s laugh filled the small shack, brightening it in a way that Keith never really had expected the small house needed. Leaning down slightly to kiss the pert nose, Hunk smiled, dark eyes warm. “I’m _so_ not against a good time but let me and Lance really get our connection fully established and settled. He really fears that one of us will leave him.”

“Oh no. Him, too?”

“Too?”

“I’ve seen insecurity ruin a soulmate relationship.”

“Oh. Nah, he’ll adapt. Lance has _way_ too much love in him for just me to absorb.” He grinned. “He’s also _really_ good for angry fucking.”

“Oh my god _Hunk _. _Why_ would you tell me that?!”__

__“Because you look like you’re always down for some hard, angry fucking. I could be wrong, but if I’m _not_ . . .”_ _

__Keith made a noise similar enough to a balloon deflating that Hunk snickered. Covering violet eyes with a pale hand, Keith groaned, “I’m gonna rub myself _raw_.”_ _

__“Better start that shower, then.” Hunk winked, blushed, bit his lip, then leaned in to kiss Keith’s forehead. “I brought some supplies for dinner, so you take as long as you need.” With that, he turned and left the room._ _

__With a sad, tiny smile, Keith followed the suggestion to get under some hot water and rinse the pain from his skin. But where Hunk had closed the door, Keith reached over and opened it just enough to hear Hunk’s soft singing as he began a quick clean of the kitchen nook before getting into any of the cooking. It helped him feel less alone._ _

__He didn’t masturbate at all in the shower, too emotionally drained to bother with anything more than his usual thorough scrubbing. A physical weariness was beginning to catch up with him. It’d been a long time since he’d processed these amounts of pain, and he sometimes forgot how much his body could process. With a sigh, he finished drying off, slipping into some clean boxers and pants that Hunk had ninja’d into the bathroom. From the sounds of things, the Garrison student had found the tiny washer and drier and was running a load of laundry while he focused on dishes. Keith winced. He was busy with his own projects, and should have done his laundry days ago. But he had the feeling that keeping busy with household tasks was something that helped Hunk process his emotions._ _

__Carrying out his dirty laundry, he saw that Hunk had already separated out the loads and had appropriately-sized piles waiting to go into the efficiency-sized machine. The moment he dropped his socks into the whites pile and the rest of his laundry into the smallest pile of dark clothing, he found himself wrapped up in the softest throw blanket he’d ever touched. Hunk’s warm arms held him close to a warm chest. Sagging into the sensation with a groan, Keith _definitely_ knew that this hadn’t been in his house before tonight. “Hey.”_ _

__“Hey,” Hunk rumbled. “I’m sor—”_ _

__“I swear to God, if you apologize for doing my laundry, I’ll throw caution to the wind and thank you with a blowjob.”_ _

__“. . . oh my God I’m _so conflicted_ right now . . .”_ _

__Keith let his head fall against Hunk’s solid form. “I take it this was from Colleen?”_ _

__“Mm-hm. Wait until you see what else she snuck into Sam’s old skimmer.”_ _

__“What? Wait, you have Sam’s old skimmer? She won’t even let _me_ drive that beauty!”_ _

__Snickering, Hunk moved Keith just enough away that he could see what he was pulling out of a pocket. “Yeah, well, if you’d tried to run it before I got my hands on it, you’d have a digger, not a skimmer. Sam kinda let her rust as he focused on the Garrison stuff for Kerberos.”_ _

__He opened his hand to show a pen._ _

__A _soul-pen_._ _

__“She sent me with five of them, each labeled with our names.”_ _

__“She . . . oh my god, she needed DNA for these.”_ _

__“Shiro used to spend a lot of time at the Holt’s, right?” Hunk handed the one labeled “KK” to Keith. “I bet that she got some hair from him when the guys would do their monthly haircuts.”_ _

__“That sounds like her,” Keith grumbled. “She used to cut mine.”_ _

__“How long has she known?”_ _

__“No idea, because she’d never answer. Shiro would tell us, though.” He stopped and sighed gustily. “Oh my god. Shiro knew that Pidge was one of his soulmates.”_ _

__Hunk wheezed. “They’re gonna be _pissed_.”_ _

__“Yeah they are.”_ _

__“I’ll make popcorn for that spitting match. But I’d like to be well out of the blast radius.”_ _

__Keith uncapped his pen, eyeballing the felt tip before recapping it. Hunk, on the other hand, pulled his own pen cap off and drew a heart on the back of his left hand before capping it again and putting it back into his pocket. “I’m going to keep moving. You keep bundled in that until you have some clean shirts and socks, and dinner is almost done. Mild curry, but you can make it spicier if you’d like.”_ _

__“OhGodIthinkI’minlovewithyou,” Keith blurted, then clapped a hand over his mouth._ _

__Giggling, the bigger teen grinned. “Well, shit. I’d hope so! Grab a seat.” Within moments, Keith had settled at the table that was still only set for two people, and a hot mug of tea found its way into his hands before Hunk served up food for both of them, set the bowls down, then forwarded the laundry. For the first time, Keith considered finding or making some new furniture that would be able to seat all his soulmates to dinner. In his mind’s eye, seeing Shiro surrounded by people who loved him as intensely as Keith loved him would make the older man truly thrive._ _

__Hunk tossed a clean shirt to Keith, who was already panting through his first bite of steaming curry. Fifteen minutes passed before Hunk drew a second heart, this one closer to the wrist, with three dots leading away from it to a question mark._ _

__Another five minutes passed._ _

__Keith lost his cool. Patience was never his strong point._ _

__He pulled the top of his own pen off and wrote a cryptic message along the bony edge of his radius, right above the wrist._ _

__**Δ? Δψ? ✔ IN!!!** _ _

__“Delta Psi?” Hunk murmured in question._ _

__“We came up with a series of code symbols. Delta-question-mark is asking about a change in situation overall. Delta-Psi-question-mark is asking about a change in his mental health.”_ _

__They waited, wordlessly agreeing that if one took a bite of food, so would the other. They couldn’t neglect their own health on this one._ _

__Then the response._ _

__A bite mark formed around the message, framing it, the white press of teeth releasing to flush pink with a bruise._ _

__Keith sagged, shakily drawing a small heart to one side of the bruise, close to the hand, making sure that Shiro would know that it was him with a specific spiral pattern to fill in the heart’s outline. “He bit himself to check in, Hunk. He’s . . . he’s _so_ not okay.”_ _

__“Yeah. Okay. I’m going to check in with Pidge and Lance, okay?” He dialed Pidge at Keith’s nod, hearing his smallest soulmate pick up on the first ring._ _

__“Hunk.”_ _

__“Hey, Gremlin. Down for some engineering?”_ _

__“Yeah. We saw the change in scar pattern shortly after you left and realized that someone’s going to need an arm. I’m going to take a look at what kind of nonsense that the Garrison is cooking up for prosthetics and see what kind of build we’re going to be looking at for the guts of the thing. Was it our guy that you know?”_ _

__“No. Our mystery fifth, who this guy knows.”_ _

__“Okay. Can we get to him?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Fuck. Okay.”_ _

__“Keep any names off of our skin and be gentle in your messages. Our dude here is going to need some extra love, too. He’s real close to our fifth.” Hunk ignored Keith’s suddenly-teary glare, reaching over to pull the smaller young man onto his lap and keep him curled close with one arm._ _

__“Please let him know what we love him too, Hun—Hey! Lance!”_ _

__Lance’s voice filled the speakerphone, his tone low and urgent. “Hunk, my man, stay overnight with our dude, okay? _Don’t_ let him sleep alone, not after what we all just dealt with, okay? Pidge and I are good here.”_ _

__Hunk’s voice was low, “Are you sure that you’re okay with that, gorgeous?”_ _

__Despite his tears, Keith could _hear_ Lance’s blush. “Y-yeah. So long as he’s as pretty as I am! I won’t have you wasting your time with a hag.”_ _

__Hunk’s laugh covered Keith’s amused snort. “Oh, he’s pretty all right. Just as gorgeous as you are, and in all different ways. Just without your shining personality—Ow! Hey! It’s true! Dude, smacking is totally okay, but can we talk about location before you start whaling on me?”_ _

__“Mm. Kinky,” Lance crooned into the phone, Pidge’s theatrical gagging making the croon end on a giggle. “I want details when you get home. Take care of him?”_ _

__“I will.” He renewed his hold around the trim waist, pulling Keith close against his heartbeat. “I promise. I love you, Lance.”_ _

__“Y-yeah. I-I love you too, Hunk.”_ _

__When he hung up, Hunk watched as trails of love flowed up their left arms. Leaving the food half-eaten on the kitchen table, he carried Keith into the bedroom, settling him down into a nest of blankets and pillows. “I’m going to clean up, but I’ll be in very soon, okay?”_ _

__“You’re spoiling me again.”_ _

__“You’re warming our bed, and Pidge has told me that you’re good at that.”_ _

__“Our bed, huh?”_ _

__“Uh. Ours only if you want me in it?”_ _

__“Hunk. Yes, I fucking want you in my bed.”_ _

__Kissing the pale forehead, then pausing to kiss the scar over Keith’s nose, Hunk sighed and let himself sag a bit. “I’m . . . I’m gonna need some cuddles when I come back.”_ _

__“Hit the end of your mom-friend override?”_ _

__“Hah. Yeah.”_ _

__“Then hurry back so I can take care of you, big man.”_ _

__When Hunk left, keeping the door open to keep Keith company with the noises of cleaning and settling the cabin for the night, the loner sank into the old mattress. Was this what having a Soulmate was supposed to be like? Only Shiro had ever been able to move this seamlessly around him, teasing out laughter and a playful side that Keith never knew he possessed. Hunk was a gentle complement._ _

__Just as he fell into the hazy place between awareness and slumber, he felt the bed dip and he opened his arms, curling his (his!) big man close to his chest, letting him soak his fresh shirt in saltwater and silent sobs that shook the bed. Despite it all, he never felt as safe or as calm as he felt in this moment._ _

__He wondered if this was what his parents had shared before his mom died. He really, really hoped that his parents had felt this kind of happiness. And as he combed his hand through Hunk’s hair, he recalled how his dad never went on dates, never seemed to even look at another woman. And it made sense. Even if it was only Hunk or only Shiro in his life . . . he’d never want to look at another person if he had a child to raise._ _

__For the first time in years, he let his grief soak his pillow, long after Hunk’s sobs had evened out into the sleep of the truly exhausted._ _

__But unlike the fragile and jagged pain in years past, his heart felt calm after the tears._ _

__He didn’t remember falling asleep._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Body Horror: This is the chapter when Shiro gains the scar across his face and loses his arm. The body horror describes how the scars look on the right arm before it's amputated. There's also a really strong reaction by one of the characters at seeing the scars.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the final completed chapter that I have had pre-written. I have five pages of the next chapter coming along in a rough draft with a lot of interpersonal working-shit-out sorts of things. But here's some of the comfort that we all want to see for one of our boys.
> 
> No major warnings for this chapter, but please let me know if I should include any. I had a house party last night that was a bunch of us over-21 folks compromising our sober consciousnesses by way of legal substances in the state of Massachusetts, reading tarot cards, talking smack, and talking about the various supernatural experiences that we've had.

The Garrison Trio stared down at the encampment, eyes taking in every detail of the tents that sat perched on the edge of the impact crater. Garrison officers and technicians positively _swarmed_ around the alien ship inside and out as they loaded it up onto a truck and began pulling a tarp over it. Their fourth or fifth had taken a decent jostle during their run from the Garrison proper out to the crash site, making Pidge and Lance frown and Hunk break into a cold sweat.

But despite it all, Pidge and Lance kept moving, triangulating to keep themselves on the right path, not asking unnecessary questions as they made their way to the ridge to get a look at what was _really_ happening.

And now they were staring at this organized response from the Galaxy Garrison itself at an alien ship crashing and were at a loss. They weren’t _supposed_ to be ready for alien encounters.

Pidge was growling by the time that they had established a hack into the mobile network below them. “Got it! Live feed inside the main section of . . . oh . . .”

“Oh?” Hunk and Lance hissed, neither moving closer to the screen, instead preferring to keep their eyes out as lookouts. But that small syllable held both acres of uncharted territory and the suspenseful music in a video game would slowly start rising in ominous tribute to a terrifying boss fight.

“Yeah. _Oh._ As in _oh, I’m going to fucking murder both of them._ ”

“What? Who?” Lance asked, voice soft but demanding.

“Shiro and Keith.” They moved away from the screen, their hand trembling with rage and adrenaline as they turned the screen to show who was strapped to a table and demanding answers of people who weren’t listening to him or the warnings he was trying to get across.

Golden eyes sharpened on their expressions, taking in Lance’s speculative, narrowed gaze and the blank look on Hunk’s face. “Hunk.”

“I suspected.”

“Do you know where the rest of the crew is?”

“No. I don’t think that either of them will know, either.”

“Fuck you. Fuck you _so much_ , Hunk!”

“Later!” Lance hissed, eyes taking in the logistics of the room. “This is going to be difficult to get him out of there.”

“Okay, this is gonna suck, but Hunk. Really? You _knew_?”

“I suspected! And Keith talks in his sleep and was really worried that you two wouldn’t accept him as easily as you would accept Shiro.”

“Oh for fuck’s own sake,” Pidge snarled. “Like we’d be able to keep Lance from keeping his hands off of _either_ of them for very long.”

“Mm. Truth. I’ll be mad at you later for keeping two hot men away from me.”

“Oh my god, _Lance_!”

“I’m focusing! On Shiro and Keith. And how to get Shiro out of there. But we’re going to need a distraction. A good one. And then we’ll have to find a way to get ourselves into that main tent, which I don’t think—”

Explosions lit up the sky, and Lance and Hunk yelped. Pidge focused back on the encampment and began shoving their gear back into their bag. “We got our distraction! He’s already on the move!”

“Who?” Hunk asked.

“Keith!” Lance called over his shoulder. “Oh, he is _not_ out-doing me on this! No way, buddy!”

By the time that they had entered the quarantine area, Keith had already turned a sedated Shiro’s head towards him, memorizing the differences between the man who left, and the man who returned to them. He looked up as they entered, paling slightly before opening his mouth. Lance made a swift gesture to one side. “Nope. Not now. We’re talking later. Help me rescue Shiro.”

“Help _you_ rescue . . . You know what, I’m not arguing with that.” He moved with Lance to begin hauling the larger man off of the table and towards the door. “Pidge, please wait to kick me in the sack until after we get Shiro somewhere safe.” He winced. “And please tell me you hacked the cameras.”

“Locked down and fragmented everything that happened from the moment your skimmer touched down. And I like my apologies _not_ performed in soprano, thank you very much.”

“Evil,” Lance huffed, glad that they were now out of the building and making good time. “I approve.”

“Time to move!” Hunk yelped from where he stood as lookout. “Please tell me you brought the big skimmer!”

“You bet I did!” Keith replied. “Going to need your help with some of the turns, big man.”

Hunk grinned broadly. “Got your back.”

“Wow, you _hate_ my flying,” Lance griped, helping haul Shiro up to where he and Pidge could anchor him.

“Um, yeah, so . . . you also do some things that make gravity _weird_ , Lance.”

“Ass!”

“Hold on tight!”

“Fuck _you_ , Keith, why am _I_ the one holding Shiro?!”

“Because you’re fucking superhuman! Stop bitching and hold tight!”

~*~

Shiro woke with a gasp, a flail, and a pounding heart. “Iverson!”

“Wow. Didn’t expect you to yell _his_ name in bed.”

The snarky, familiar voice could only belong to one person. “Keith?”

“Hey, Shiro.” Keith moved a little closer to the bed, but still made sure to move slowly, never blocking an exit path.

Slumping slightly, Shiro rubbed at his face with his left hand, squinting in the pre-dawn light. He reached out with his right hand to Keith, then realized which hand was reaching and he shuddered, retracting it and turning his face away.

But gentle warmth surrounded the palm and fingers, a sensation he never actually had felt with the prosthetic. Shiro looked up into dark, intense eyes, his own gaze pain-filled. Keith pulled the hand up to his face, flowering the digits open to press it against his cheek. “No. Don’t hide from me.” He kissed the metal palm. “Welcome home, Shiro.”

Tears welled up helplessly, and Shiro ducked his head, watching his own gaze blur with saltwater before they dropped to the old quilt across his legs. He was in Keith’s bed, and it smelled so much like his soulmate and . . . and someone else? It didn’t matter. There was a lot of them. This smelled like _home_ to him. The shack was safe. Hidden from the Garrison. Because if anyone knew how to hide a house and its contents from the Garrison, it was Keith.

But . . . noises?

His brain flashed into full awareness as he leapt out of bed, shoving Keith behind himself while he checked the window, noting that it was false dawn. Pulling the shade with a quick flick of his wrist, he turned and scanned the frame of the door, seeing light shining more-or-less evenly along all cracks, and no strange shadows along the bottom edge. “How long was I out?” he asked softly, barely above a whisper as he continued to case every item in the room.

“Almost six hours in total. Nights are still a bit long right now, and it’s almost five in the morning. The sedative wore off around hour four, and you had . . . a really nasty night terror. You weren’t really awake, Shiro, and . . .” Keith swallowed. “You were afraid of some pretty terrifying things.”

Keith settled himself casually against the wall, careful not to block Shiro’s access to the door. His own past hurdled through his mind as he realized that their roles were entirely swapped. He was now carefully treading around the wild-animal look that assessed every small movement, every possible escape route. So the younger man kept himself as nonthreatening as possible, body language submissive and open. He was waiting for Shiro’s next move, not wanting to force a reaction but waiting to see Shiro actually take action.

And with a sudden slump of his shoulders and a widening of his eyes, Shiro saw it. He felt his core shaking as he reached his left hand out towards Keith, unable to mask the tremor.

Carefully, telegraphing every move, Keith walked the two steps closer and took Shiro’s flesh-and-blood hand in his right. His left hand curled into the prosthetic’s grip, accepting this new part of Shiro as easily as the night Shiro lost the limb had been terrifying. It was clear that Shiro feared its own power, possibly didn’t even understand how it worked. He swallowed, deciding to just deal with this straight-on. “Keith . . . what did this do to you?”

The still-narrow shoulders tilted, and Keith let go of Shiro’s hand to let the sleeve slide off in an effortlessly sensual motion that both men recognized. Grey gaze met purple with a sudden intensity that hadn’t been there when Shiro had left on mission, but neither held heat, not yet. The older man’s eyes slipped to the side when Keith’s arm was free, his fingers coming back up to trace the gradient scar before wrapping his calloused palm around it, closing his eyes against suddenly-blurry vision. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Shiro.” Keith slowly drew Shiro closer, giving him plenty of time to pull away. But Shiro sunk into the embrace, forehead dropping to rest on Keith’s shoulder, arms wrapping around the narrow waist. “You’re home. I’m really here. It’s okay.”

Shiro’s voice was small, shaking. “I’m . . . I’m really home? This isn’t a dream?”

Pressing leaking eyes closed and pressing a daring kiss against Shiro’s temple, Keith whispered, “This isn’t a dream. You’re _home_ , Takashi.”

A pan dropped in the kitchen, followed by a soft voice reassuring someone else. Shiro had jumped a mile, swinging Keith behind him in the same motion as he tensed for action. When there was an answering laugh, soft and musical, Shiro could almost feel his gaze clear up. “Guests? Keith, you have guests over?”

Keith moved back around, putting his back to the door and softly gaining Shiro’s eye-contact as he pulled his jacket back up properly. “Not guests, Shiro. Our soulmates. Hunk is making a really early breakfast, Lance probably dropped something while trying to help, and Pidge is still sleeping on the couch. I hope. Maybe not so much after that.”

Shiro frowned. Three other people in the house that he didn’t personally know? Was his cohort bigger than he had anticipated? “You trust them?”

It broke Keith’s heart to hear Shiro even question that, because he had hoped to _never_ have any of his soulmates question another soulmate’s trustworthiness. But he didn’t let any of that show. “They helped me rescue you. And they are all pretty damn awesome, but if you _ever_ tell Lance I said that, I’ll tell everyone about the real story about that scar on your ankle.”

“You . . . that’s blackmail.”

Keith chanced it. He stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a dry kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth, smiling as he settled back on his heels. “Sure is. C’mon. Shower first, then food. We’re pretty well-bunkered here for at least a week if we need that time to plan.”

“You sure that the Garrison won’t follow you here? They know we were close.”

“I crossed trails and kept away from areas that are actively under surveillance.” Keith shrugged. “And even if they _did_ try to approach, we’d know because Pidge upgraded and expanded my current alarm system within two hours of arriving. You four would be hidden securely with more than enough time for me to act really natural. I don’t know if Dad knew about any of it, but there’s some interesting features about this house that makes me wonder if it was used to hide people really, _really_ effectively. Scarily effectively, Shiro.”

“And . . . and you’re _sure_ we can trust them?” Shiro stared at the closed door, worrying the tuft of white hair hanging in front of his eyes.

Keith curled himself to Shiro’s right side very deliberately, arm resting around Shiro’s waist. He hurt, hearing how Shiro didn’t even feel like he could trust his soulmates. Though, considering Adam, and now whatever had transpired while Shiro was missing . . . “Yes. With both our lives. Just beware the little one.”

“That doesn’t worry me.”

“It should.” Keith let Shiro make the first move, cracking the door open and stepping through when Shiro bumped their shoulders.

Movement in the kitchen stopped.

“Keith, if he’s not awake in another hour, I’m going to have you wake him because I sure as fuck don’t want to get within swinging distance.”

Shiro’s head snapped around to try to pinpoint the origin of the voice. “Katie?!”

The little hacker was up and over the back of the couch, literally leaping right into Shiro’s arms before they collapsed into an embrace sitting on the floor. “You _ass_! I hate that you kept this from me!” They shoved their glasses up, rubbing at their eyes before the Japanese man pressed them closer to his heartbeat, curling around them protectively. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me that we were soulmates, Shiro?”

“Oh, _God_ , so many reasons, but every one of them were because I didn’t want to hurt you and I wanted to respect how much you hated the soulmate system. I didn’t want to distract you from your goals. Adam, God, _Adam_ would have been intolerable and I _know_ that the two of you never could get along no matter how hard you tried.”

Pidge’s face screwed up into a mask of pure disgust. “He’s visited Mom a lot since you guys disappeared. Like he feels bad or something.”

“He knows you’re at the Garrison?” Keith asked softly.

“He thinks I’m a cousin. He also thinks that ‘Katie’ was so heartbroken that ‘she’ became a recluse and is at a different boarding school.”

Lance groaned from the kitchen, face hidden behind his hands as he muttered obscenities at people misgendering Pidge. Hunk’s stirring had gotten a little more aggressive at hearing that one of the Garrison’s actual best had a soulmate who was an actual asshole.

“God, Katie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’d better be, you ass.”

“I know. I am. I regret not telling you.”

“Yeah, because then me and Keith would have been able to keep an eye on each other and worked together to find you faster.”

Shiro sighed into the shorter gingery hair than what he had been used to seeing on his soulmate. “I’m sorry. But . . . you and Keith were right, though. From what I _can_ remember, you were both right about what’s out there.”

“Aliens,” Pidge hissed, eyes closing. They squeezed Shiro’s torso in a hug, feeling him stand and put them on their feet. “I missed you.”

“I know you never stopped looking for me. You _or_ Keith.”

“Where . . . where’s Dad? And Matt?”

“We got separated,” Shiro whispered, eyes squeezing shut before he looked back down at Katie . . . at _Pidge_. He shook his head slightly. “It’s all pretty burry. I’m sorry.”

Pidge took in a deep breath and released Shiro. “Okay.” They nodded and turned on their heel and walked out the door, head down.

Turning and reaching into his room, Keith grabbed a zip-up hoodie hanging just inside the bedroom. “Lance,” he called, tossing it to the teenager, glad that the other teen was already heading towards the door.

The Cuban boy nodded in thanks as he caught the sweatshirt. “I’ll keep an eye on them and get them back.” He patted his pocket and nodded. “Hunk, message me if we need to go to ground fast.”

Keith sighed when Lance had closed the door behind him. “Pidge is pissed. They’re really, really pissed.”

“Yeah, but they’ll live and they’ll be even more determined to find the rest of the crew,” Hunk replied softly. “They hate showing how deep and strong their emotions run.” He smiled, a blush dusting his cheeks before he turned to check the oven. “Keith, thank you for stocking _actual_ food here.”

“After your last lecture, big man? I’d rather not be the spectacle again. C’mon, Shiro. Shower, and then food. Then we’ll see if Lance can catch a wild Pidge.”

“Oh my God, Pokémon jokes, too?” Hunk wheezed. “My heard is over-flowing, my skin has cleared, my crops—”

“Hunk. Oh my God.”

“Let me gush about my soulmates! Rain on someone else’s parade. Jeez, dude.”

Shiro snorted, genuinely amused at how quickly Hunk and Keith had found a balance. Despite still wanting to keep Keith safe and away from danger, it made him feel happy that his . . . his soulmates loved each other, too. He felt his balance start to give, and Keith was immediately on one side, Hunk on the other, effortlessly coordinating to help Shiro sit on the toilet. The big student rested a warm hand on Shiro’s right shoulder before giving them privacy. 

“He’s . . . he’s amazing.”

“Yeah he is, and he’s ours, too,” Keith teased lightly, helping Shiro start to peel some of the alien uniform off. He left most of everything on, though, just loosening closures. “I’ll get you some clothes; looks like you’ll fit into some of Dad’s old things.”

“Don’t go,” Shiro whispered urgently, eyes pleading with Keith. “Please.”

Turning back around, the young man embraced the pilot’s head to his torso, feeling both human and alien arms wrap around him securely in return. “Okay.”

~*~

“Pidge.”

“I had a feeling you’d be the one to find me.”

Lance sat beside them. “Yeah. I didn’t have anything to do, Hunk’s cooking, Keith is probably helping Shiro shower. He looked a little wobbly but that could still be the meds wearing off.”

“Yeah.”

“I know you’re not okay—”

“Wow. Really?”

“Pidge.” Lance let his arm fall open, offering physical touch to his gremlin.

They sprung at the chance to not be okay for a while, chest heaving with sobs. Lance stroked long lines up and down their back. “I’m going to let you go and turn around, okay?”

“Wh-why?”

“You need to get out of your binder. I brought a baggy sweater from Keith.” Lance loosened his hold just a little. “Please.”

Growling in frustration, Pidge didn’t wait for Lance to turn around before they began pulling at their clothing. Holding the zip-up hoodie up between them, he turned his head away and upwards. He was nailed in the face with a binder for his efforts at keeping Pidge’s modesty. Catching it by pinning it between his chin and his shoulder, he waited until Pidge slid their arms into the hoodie and pulled it closed. He folded the binder carefully, glad that he didn’t have to worry about squishing _this_ one, and shoved it into a pocket before opening his arms again. Pidge curled between his legs, sideways against his torso and arms crossed over their chest while Lance curled around them protectively, resting his chin on their head.

Their voice was soft, angry. “I kinda hate this a _lot_.”

“You should. And you know Shiro won’t hold that against you. Or the rest of us.”

“I know. Don’t make me go back early?”

“I won’t.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is unbeta'ed, please excuse any mistakes, and I'm enjoying not being entirely sober right now. I'm off to work on another fanfic.
> 
> Thank you folks for reading my self-indulgent little piece of work here.

_“Do you feel like the eyes are following you?”_

Lance jolted awake, staring at the ceiling of the castleship, Blue purring softly in the back of his mind. He groaned, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes before beginning to take stock of the situation. His clock (Altean and still very, very strange) gave him the time as being just about two hours before their agreed wake-up time for morning drills.

He held up his left arm, some pen-marks still faintly visible. Everyone was still sleeping separately, still writing notes late at night. It was comfortable for some of them, but Lance had the sneaking suspicion that Shiro and Keith were trading off which room to sleep in together after the other three had stumbled off to their separate rooms. Lance wasn’t sure how the Alteans would react to same-gender relationships like him and Hunk. They had started sharing the same bed at least twice a week since they’d met, and not being able to drop to the lower bunk to snuggle up with his boyfriend was starting to wear down on him.

And Keith and Shiro were still doing that thing where they weren’t keeping to human hours anymore.

A light bruise blossomed over the back of Lance’s right hand and he huffed a noise of amusement. Might as well start his day. He poked his head out of his room to see that Hunk and Pidge had opened their doors and were almost finished getting into their armor. “Hey. You guys, too?”

Pidge’s pissed-off grunt floated out to him as Hunk carried out the bulkier pieces of his paladin armor to lay at the doorstep before checking to see if he forgot anything important. “Think the Princess is awake yet?”

“Does she actually _sleep_?” Pidge grunted, grumpy this early in the morning. “She’s not human, like, _legit_ not human.”

Hunk was less chatty, eyes bleary. “Anyone else sleeping like crap?”

“Yep,” Pidge and Lance chorused as they grabbed chestplates and helmets and just carried the armor with them towards the training room. Arena. Thing. It was just too fucking early to put everything on.

They entered to see Keith icing up the back of his right hand, mouth snapping shut mid-flirt if Shiro’s blush was anything to judge by. Lance blinked, and Hunk sighed. “God, you two. C’mon, breakfast at the _very_ least, then we’ll let you two get back to flirt-by-combat.”

“Should . . . should we talk about . . . ?” Shiro seemed a little off-guard by Hunk’s casual acceptance.

“Duh, Shiro.” Pidge handed Hunk their armor and hauled themself up and draped over Hunk’s shoulder, unwilling to walk. “Also, Hunk has the most experience with poly folks so he’s going to Know All. He’s got two moms and two dads.”

“Oh. Well, that actually explains a hell of a lot.”

Lance grinned, having found a way to carry the gear without dropping anything. The trick was to close the chest and back armor around the helmet, and to carry the helmet by the chin-strap so that the pieces protecting their chins and their occipital ridges caught on the inside of the neckline with ease. “Yeah, so, we’re never going to talk about anything really important if we keep listening to Allura’s schedule. I say we stage a rebellion. Mutiny for half a day.”

“Fuck,” Shiro hissed, running a hand through sweat-drenched bangs. He grinned suddenly, a half-wild look in his eyes making Keith bark a laugh and catch up with Hunk. Lance raised an eyebrow, watching him prance up to his boyfriend (their boyfriend?) to whisper something conspiratorially to the bigger teen. Shiro leaned in suddenly, nose brushing Lance’s when the Cuban boy’s head whipped around. The man’s voice had dropped a half-octave. “Let’s play hooky.” He took Lance’s set of armor and brushed Lance’s cheek with a kiss on his way past.

Lance’s breath left him in a soft wheeze, frozen in place, fingers starting to slip from holding Pidge’s armor for them.

The Garrison’s Golden-Poster-Boy-Hero-Man-Person _just kissed his cheek._

_“Dios mio.”_

“Catch up, Lance!” Keith called. “Or I’ll eat all of Hunk’s pancakes!”

~*~

They hadn’t been able to play effective hooky. No sooner than the five soulmates had holed up in a cozy observatory overlooking the Arusian mountain range than Allura had strode in.

Pidge groaned, falling back onto the couch. “Fucking _hell_.”

“Pidge,” Shiro warned, voice tired.

“Is there a reason why you five decided to shirk responsibility today?” she demanded, cheeks flushed from her storming after their winding trek through the castleship. 

“Responsibility to _who_?” Lance demanded softly, blue eyes flashing with his rare true temper. “Because my first responsibility is to _them_ , not you, not Voltron. Them.”

“Lance is right.” Keith’s arms were crossed tightly against his chest. “And we five have a lot of shit to sort out between ourselves. You want us to be better Paladins? Fine. Give us some time to be better fucking soulmates, first.”

Her brow furrowed, white eyebrows nearly meeting in the middle. “Soulmates? I didn’t realize that trait was found outside of Alteans and the Galra. None of the species we have encountered carried the traits.”

“This is why we had to step away, Princess,” Shiro affirmed. “I’ve just met Lance and Hunk when they rescued me. Pidge just found out that I’ve known they and I were soulmates since before I was kidnapped. Keith, Pidge and Hunk just met a few months ago. We all need time to actually talk out what’s going on and how everyone feels about our current and newfound relationships.”

The princess drew in a breath and nodded, hands fidgeting nervously with her skirt before she caught the habit and stilled them. “I apologize. Your clear affinity towards one another and harmony in times of stress had me assuming that you had all known each other for several years. I didn’t realize that some of you had just met one another.”

“In some ways, we have,” Pidge said, sitting up. They bit their lip before turning to the others, eyes locking with Keith’s. “Let her sit in. It’s strategically sound, and she needs to know a few things if she’s going to be around us for any stretch of time.”

Shiro pursed his lips before looking to Lance and Hunk with a quick shrug. They nodded. Keith, easily the most private of them all, rolled it around in his head before nodding. “I’m gonna be embarrassed anyway and I hate feeling that way, so don’t make me regret this.”

“Dude, we’re _all_ gonna be embarrassed,” Lance laughed. “I _promise_ you I’m gonna say something stupid within five minutes.” He turned and smiled up at Allura before inviting her to sit between himself and Pidge’s head. “Careful. They bite when provoked.”

Snatching her hand away, Allura blinked down at Pidge, whose mouth had been opening to make a snapping noise. They laughed, wrinkling their nose and relaxing back again. “He’s lying. Mostly. I only used to bite my brother when we were fighting.”

Shiro snorted a laugh. “Matt warned me about that. Anyway, I uh, guess that I’ll start?” He blushed. “So, Keith and I have been platonic partners since shortly after we met.”

“Not for lack of trying on my side to make it less-platonic,” Keith grumbled under his breath, catching Lance’s grinning wink and fingerguns and returned it with a smirk and a nod. At least they could agree that Shiro was gorgeous on a mythical level.

The Japanese man facepalmed. “Okay, _guys_. Pidge is _right there_.”

“Get over it, Shiro,” Pidge replied, sitting up and crossing their legs. “Okay, look, simply put, I’m asexual and I don’t expect you guys to censor yourselves around me. I’m not really sex-repulsed, just not interested in it, and don’t really want to be around while it’s going on. Hunk, Lance and I have a queer-platonic relationship down in a good way. With, like, a little romance? Ish?”

“So, demi-romantic?” Shiro asked, head tilting to one side.

“What does that mean?” Allura asked quietly, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

“It means that I’m okay with a little bit of romance, but I don’t like a lot of that trashy kind of romance. I have to be engaged on an emotional and intellectual level before I’m okay with someone getting cuddly or bringing me gifts or anything.”

“I woo them with hot sauces from around the world, peanut butter cookies, and watching mechanical engineering videos together,” Hunk said with a grin.

Keith’s eyes lit up as Lance said, “We do video games and snuggle up to watch trashy reality TV shows to roast the stupid decisions that people make.”

“Wait, so I have a chance for that, too?” Keith asked quietly.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Pidge replied. They winced when they looked at their longtime friend. “Shiro, you’re going to _really_ have to be patient with me. You became like an older brother to me back before the Kerberos mission, and I don’t know if I could see you as anything other than a sibling for a while.”

“Hey, I understand. I had a lot of talks with Colleen about this.” He paled immediately, realizing what he had said.

“Oh. Good. Mom knew.”

“Uh, shit.” Everyone turned to look at Hunk, whose face was quickly flushing with a solid red glow. “She told me that she knew who all five of us were back on that night when . . .” His face went ashen with a worrying pace, and he motioned to Shiro’s arm. “On _that_ night.”

“So those pens weren’t just labeled because Keith figured it out, but because _Mom_ had figured it out.”

“And snuck hair samples away from each of us, yeah,” Lance added. “Damn. Your family is _scary_ , Pidge.”

He looked to Allura as Shiro said for all of them, “If you need us to explain a term, _please_ tell us. I’d rather pause and make sure everyone understands everything, anyway.”

“Thank you for your patience with me,” Allura replied, voice humbled and soft. She felt a touch on her hand, and glanced down to see Lance’s fingers brushing over her knuckles. Looking up and around, a little shocked that an affectionate touch was given to someone outside of a cohort, she realized that they were all smiling at her, and didn’t seem to even _notice_ that Lance had curled his hand around hers before turning to look at the others.

“Hunk and I are probably about the same level of dating that Keith and Shiro are. So, do we want to state what we’re leaning towards each other, or do we just want to let things kinda evolve?”

“I vote evolve,” Keith said into the thoughtful silence that had followed. “Hunk and I have talked a little about our forming relationship, and he’s been courting me pretty hard. I feel bad that you and Pidge didn’t know about that.”

“Don’t,” the two chorused, then laughed at themselves. Lance spoke first. “I love Hunk with _everything_ I got, and I know he loves me, too, but we’re also really good at smothering one person if we only have one person to court. That took me about a month to realize. That’s also why I’ve slowly been getting more romantic with Pidge, and Hunk’s probably made you uncomfortable with how fast he’s able to get a living situation straightened.”

“Oh my God, you don’t even _know_ ,” Keith groaned, slouching back and letting his head fall against the back of the couch. “Shiro, I fucking swear, _Shiro_ , listen to this. So not only does Hunk make sure that Pidge and Lance are settled after we had a reaction-collapse to your injury, but he fucking gets over to Colleen’s house, uses Sam’s old skimmer—”

“No! The _deathtrap_?!”

“We fixed it, _god_!” Pidge cried. “Why does nobody believe that I have mechanical engineering skills?!”

“Oh, _that’s_ reassuring in hindsight.” Hunk’s face fell into his hands.

“Telling a story here, shut the fuck up,” Keith sing-songed. “Anyway, big man gets his gawddamn badass self out to my shack, finds me on the couch trying to fight off the reaction-headache, cleans me up, makes sure I don’t fall over because I puked my guts out—”

“Same, man,” Lance groaned, feeling a residual turn of his gut and a tremor along his arms from the force of that nausea.

“—glad I wasn’t the only one, Lance. So he gets me into the shower, starts making me _actual food_ , Shiro, c’mon, and then. _Then!_ Then he _did my fucking laundry_. And put me to bed, then spent the whole night snuggling and it was the tied for the best night of sleep I’ve ever had, then woke up before me and made the best pancakes in the _world_. And _all that_ in exchange for _one_ condition.” Keith leaned closer to his first partner. “That you and I figure our shit out and get settled, and then come courting our other three soulmates. I’m good with the first part if you are.”

Shiro turned to look at Hunk, who fidgeted a little in his seat, embarrassed at the high praises being sung about him. Then, with a suddenness of movement that startled even _himself_ , the older pilot was over to embrace Hunk, kissing the top of his head and pressing his face against the soft hair. “Thank you for looking after Keith. _Thank you,_ Hunk. I worried so much about him after I was taken.”

Wrapping strong arms around his oldest soulmate, Hunk smiled and squeezed Shiro tight. “Sit next to me?” he whispered very softly. “I’m . . . I’m not okay and would kinda like to, uh . . .”

“Okay,” Shiro whispered back, dropping one last kiss to Hunk’s crown before sliding to sit beside him, thighs pressing together. He stopped and looked to Lance, eyes wide. “Uh, I don’t want to intrude—”

“He sounds like I did,” Pidge laughed. “Shiro, if Lance minded, he would have said something. But I think he’s also smitten with you.”

“Pidge!” Lance hissed.

“What?! Like you weren’t cooing over the ‘best pilots in the Garrison’ for _months_ before you finally met Keith. And _then_ you wouldn’t stop trying to compete with his old scores. And I hacked your laptop and regretted it _immediately_.”

Lance flushed, eyes going distant.

Keith blinked once before grinning to Shiro. Shiro smirked at Lance, who finally met his gaze, somehow got _redder_ , and looked away. Right at Allura. And blushed harder. And dropped her hand to hide his face in his own hands. Hunk snorted, then laughed a little behind his palm. “Princess, I’m sorry to say, but I think Lance is crushing on you, too.”

“I would never intrude! A soulmate cohort of your size is _sacred_ among Alteans!”

“Yeah, but among humans, and we’re kinda in the majority,” Keith replied with a grin, “It’s almost tradition that five soulmates and up have lovers outside of our cohort for any number of reasons. It’s not taboo for us. And Lance is bi, right?”

“Y-yeah, uh, Pidge, just murder me.”

“Fuck, no, I’m crushing on her, too.”

“. . . what?”

“What?!”

“Wait, Pidge, you’re _crushing_ on someone?!”

“Wow, you guys are assholes.”

“You have my blessing.”

“Shirogane Takashi, I will tell my mother every little dirty joke you taught me.”

“First Keith blackmails me, then you? Wow. The respect is astounding.”

Allura, Lance, and Hunk were almost-hysterical with their laughter. Something in Shiro’s chest unwound at the moment that the harmonies of laughter snapped into place. Even though the Princess wasn’t technically cohort, wasn’t _technically_ a soulmate, she belonged with them. And he would look after her the same as he would look after his official cohort.

But before he did that, he had to admit to something.

Hunk felt the tremble in his left hand, and turned to look at him with soft, warm eyes. “Shiro?”

Keith’s eyes locked onto Shiro’s, and the older man looked away.

Silence.

Drawing in a deep breath, Shiro whispered, “I had another soulmate, once. He was only mated to me. And he was jealous, hurt, that I had other soulmates.” His voice broke. “His name is Adam.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me. Life fought me. I worked a kink convention last weekend as part of the staff and I'm both elated and in a hell of a lot of pain from extra physical exertion. It was a phenomenal time, and I'm looking forward to doing this again next year.
> 
> So have a new chapter while I sit and take the occasional phone call for work and lament the state of my feet after doing over 10k walking back and forth across the hotel.

Adam.

The name made Pidge want to get up and punch the wall. But Keith was faster. He wrapped his arms around them, curling them closer to his chest and wrapping his arms around theirs. Slowly, his hands unfurled their fists, weaving their fingers together. “ _Don’t_ break my hands, but you can always squeeze when you get mad. I’ll do the same.”

Allura was sitting very still, very much in shock. Not only was the humans’ culture so very alien to her, but so was this entirely new culture to her around the concept of soulmates. Altean soulmates never, _never_ repudiated each other. They simply _couldn’t_. An Altean’s very life-force was tied to the necessity of that quantum connection. It was simply anathema! If there were differences, there were many ways to handle that. But to see how this had impacted such a _young_ cohort? She couldn’t help but feel her own eyes stinging with bitter rage.

Lance’s hand found hers again, but this time, Allura didn’t know who needed the reassurance more from the physical contact.

Hunk let his breath out in a deep gust. “So, maybe you should explain, Shiro. Lance and I know Commander Whitmore as one of our professors, but . . . I’ve a feeling that this is going to really change how we interact with him if we ever get back.”

Shiro’s hand trembled, and he found that Hunk had already been reaching for it to hold onto. And the older man told the story.

~*~

It had started off as a decent summer weekend. Most of the campus had emptied into the city’s yearly carnival that marked the end of the school year for the local public schools. This left only the few people who had no interest in such things at the Garrison with a skeleton staff comprised of faculty, military, medical, and administrative members.

Shiro, Adam, Matt, and Keith were off-campus as well, but thankfully not around the carnivals. They were camping on the outskirts of one of the suburbs, with very few other people choosing this weekend to escape the city life. It was enough of a removal from the Garrison to help everyone unwind a little, even if Adam was still cold towards Keith. They arrived Friday night after dinner, set up their tent, and passed out. Shiro had been up first, and he had been grateful because while he had gone to sleep with enough space between Keith and Adam to spare, he had still woken up with heat pressing close to his side. His heart ached when he opened his eyes to see Adam curled up close to Matt, who sprawled carelessly on his back, jaw dropped in a snore.

Looking over his shoulder, Shiro saw Keith pressed up along his spine. He’d nearly lost his goddamn mind with how cute Keith’s relaxed and open expression was. But he had to move before Adam woke up and started the day with icy stares because of someone snuggling closer in their sleep. The ace pilot had stealthily gotten out of his sleeping bag and grabbed his toiletries for a quick shower at a central shack that held what could have been the state’s oldest camp showers. Once back at the site, he started up boiling some water for the coarse coffee grounds that had been haphazardly shoveled into the French press. Occasionally, Shiro would pause to watch the other early-riser campers shuffling around campstoves.

Saturday morning was spent being lazy in the sunlight, occasionally talking. Keith had burned lunch, but Shiro had laughingly been able to pull something else together without much hassle before he, too, was bit by the lazy bug and spent the afternoon reading or dozing.

And the stars were just now coming out overhead. No fire had been built, no artificial lights drowned out the glimmer of unreachable suns. Shiro was about twenty feet away from the tent, sitting on a small outcropping of stone that pushed through the dry soil. He was absently curling his toes into the soil, feeling the soft clay in contrast to the dry sand between his toes, reveling in the small motion as proof that his condition hadn’t begun progressing again.

While Matt and Keith started up the fire, Adam walked out of the campsite and sat beside Shiro, voice quiet. “I worry about you.”

“Why?” Shiro laughed, bumping their shoulders together as they had once done all the time. “Adam, I’m _fine_.”

“Shiro, I can _see_ that it’s been progressing, even slowly, for the last five years.” His gaze seemed worried as he finally looked over the frames of his glasses. “And you have other soulmates who could help take care of you, but you’re not willing to look beyond this drive to keep pushing yourself. You’ve already out-shone _every_ pilot in the Garrison, myself included! _Why_ are you doing this? Is it the spotlight? Is it the approval? Do you not want to find these people after all?”

Face locking his emotions down, Shiro turned to stare at Adam. “Are you even listening to yourself? Adam, I _want_ to be the _Kerberos_ pilot. My health hasn’t degraded to the point where it impacts my piloting abilities. I still have _years_ before this grounds me. _Years_ , Adam! Not months, not weeks, not days. Why are you so intent on pushing at this issue?”

“I want to see you safe. Your ambition—”

“My _ambition_?!”

“—Yes, your _ambition_ , Shiro! You want to be that first pilot!”

“So did you! I’d be happy if someone else had more talent and the right background for this, but I’m the best-suited, and this is a _goal_! If you had a goal for your _final act_ as a pilot, why _not_ aim for _Kerberos_?” Shiro threw his hands out in front of him, indicating the landscape. “Adam, if you had a health condition that _will cripple your legs one day_ , wouldn’t you want to run every marathon that you could?”

“You’re nearing the end of the race, Shiro,” Adam hissed. “I don’t want you hurt _more_ when you come home and you can’t fly anymore.”

“I will fly until I am compromised!” the Japanese man barked, standing and turning to face his soulmate. “I will fly until I can no longer raise my hands to the controls. And it is _my choice_ to fly until the last. Possible. Moment. And you can’t tell me not to do otherwise, Adam. I respect you, I do, but I am _not_ yours to order around out of fear for my own health.”

There was a clatter from around the other side of the tent, and pain lanced up from Shiro’s left foot. He winced but absently shook off the sensation, sighing and shaking his head at seeing the bruise blossom. Whoever just did that maybe broke at least one bone in their foot. He’d find out later to see if his soulmate was okay. He had to focus on Adam first, finish this discussion, and _hopefully_ find a way to end this on a neutral note. That was the best he could hope for with the level of frustration that was hanging around his soulmate’s eyes. Looking back up and catching the thunderous expression on Adam’s face at seeing a new soulmate bruise that he’d never share, Shiro sighed again. Guess that he’d just have to end this conversation here. “I’m going to go see what those two are doing and if they’ve managed to actually get a fire start—”

“Hey, Shiro! Keith just dropped the dutch oven on his foot! Can you see if it’s broken? I’m not that good at field medic stuff yet!” Matt called.

Adam froze.

Shiro didn’t.

He darted around the tent and skidded to a halt on the grass. Keith was holding his left foot between his hands, tears streaming down his face out from eyes squeezed shut. It broke his heart how silently this teen expressed his pain.

Wait.

It fucking _matched_. The mark _matched_ , god _damnit_ how could Shiro have been so completely _blind_ to this?!

Shiro made a soft noise, hand over his mouth as he crept closer. “Hey, Keith? Can I take a look?”

“No. Nope. No. Hurts. Sorry.”

“I . . . I know it hurts, Keith. Please. I _know_.”

Watery depths opened, locking onto Shiro’s face, then down to his left foot. “Oh, god. Oh, _no_ , Shiro, why is it _you_?” Shiro froze, unsure what to say or do until Keith kept crying. “Shiro, you’re too _perfect_ , I’m broken, you shouldn’t have to—”

Shiro wrapped Keith up in a hug, careful of his foot. Both were breathing shakily until Shiro whispered, “It’s okay. We’re both broken. _Everyone_ is broken. Let’s take care of your foot, though, and then we’ll talk more, okay? That . . . uh, that _felt_ like it broke.”

Coughing a laugh through his sobs, Keith couldn’t help himself. “I think it fucking is. What a lame way to find out about your soulmate. I can’t fucking cook to save my life and drop shit and— what are you doing?”

Shiro grabbed one of Keith’s toes. “Can you feel that?”

“Yeah?”

“Move your toes, then.”

He did.

“Not broken. Badly bruised, and you’re going to want to keep it up for the night.”

“Just like that, huh?”

Matt turned to look at Adam, voice soft. “Adam, _not now_ , dude. We’ve talked about this. You knew this was coming at _some_ point. Hell, I’m just super glad it’s someone that Shiro knows and that they both get along so well.”

“No.”

“Huh? ‘No’ _what_?”

Shiro could feel something unpleasant begin to roil around in his gut. “Adam?”

The man shook his head, going into the tent and rummaging around. Shiro looked to Matt, who seemed vaguely panicked, clearly unsure of what it was that Adam was doing. The expression shifted to one of clear internal conflict for who to help, but with a nod towards the tent, Shiro helped him make that decision. “Adam? Are . . . why are you packing up?”

Keith gasped when Shiro had managed to pull the teen to his feet, not having been witness to his strength yet. It wasn’t as if they went to the gym together, what with Keith still being a cadet and all. They had very different schedules, and hardly were able to see each other between classes, homework, or Shiro grading papers. Keith was carefully set down on the picnic table bench by the firepit, injured foot brought up to rest on the bench with a sweater wadded up under his heel. It brought a fresh wave of tears, and not the kinds attached to the physical pain of his foot.

Low voices erupted in the tent with Matt’s anger. “You can’t _do_ that!”

Shiro straightened slowly, voice painfully level and calm. “Keith. I’m letting you know _now_ that I’m real close to losing my temper. It’s not directed at you in _any way_ , got it?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Hang tight right here, and I’ll get you an ice pack in a moment for that bruise.” Shiro turned and waited for Adam to walk out, pack over his shoulder, gaze stony.

“We’re done.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to be a _lot_ more specific than that, Adam.”

“We. Are done. You won’t listen to me. You won’t take your own health into consideration—”

“That is _bullshit_ and you know it. You have come to my appointments for the last _year_ and the progression hasn’t gained speed in _two years_.”

“Don’t fucking argue with me!”

“I will do as I damn well _want_ to, Adam, and if that means _arguing with you because you’re wrong_ and _you don’t fucking own me_ , then you damn well _bet_ that I’m going to argue with you! When will it get _through_ to you that for once, _this isn’t about you_?! For once, for _once_ , I need you to be about _me_!”

Adam _seethed_. He had been trying for _years_ , from the moment that he knew that Shiro was his, trying to take care of his soulmate. He had been trying to help Shiro come to terms with the fact that his piloting career will end abruptly, and that it should have _already_ ended at _least_ once or twice by this point because the next stage in Shiro’s disorder would ground him faster than Iverson’s orders could. “Oh, this has to be about _you_ , Shiro, does it? It has to be about the Garrison Golden Pilot. It’s got to be about how much time you can spend in the spotlight.”

“Are you fucking _stupid_?” Keith asked from where he sat. “First off, hello, you’re a pilot, too, you moron. Clearly not as his level, but do you _not get it_ that all pilots want to keep flying until the last possible moment? Fuck it, I’ll outfly you _any day_ , asshole.”

“Cute. At least I won’t be leaving you entirely alone. You’ve got a brat to woo.” Adam glared at Shiro. “But of course, you never were satisfied with just one soulmate. You never could have been satisfied with just me. How could you, when you’d only find others who will just enable you?”

“I _loved_ you!” Shiro’s voice broke with his emotions and he fisted both hands until they shook. “I loved you, I wanted to keep you, but you kept pulling away because _you’ve_ always been scared that I’d willingly leave you without a fight, and we’ve talked about this _so much_ about how much it doesn’t matter how many soulmates I’d ever have . . . Adam, you have always been mine, but . . . you didn’t want that anymore. Did you?”

“It’s over. I am not your soulmate.”

Shiro felt his chest constrict, pain lancing down his spine. “Adam, _Adam, no_ —”

“I repudiate you,” Adam wheezed out around his own pain. “You are not my soulmate. Wh-when you get back to the Garrison . . . you won’t be coming home to me.”

Shiro could feel agony crawling along his entire body, and he trembled, eyes unseeing as he could feel the magnesium burn of rejection tearing through his nervous system. He knew what was said of this pain. He knew that it would often incapacitate people for days on end. He would be strong, though. He could live through this. _Keith needed him._

Hands on knees, panting, sweating with the whole-body shudders, he looked up at Adam. “I would have welcomed you back, once. Guess I’m not that good of a man to keep that welcome open. You’d better leave before I recover, Whitmore.”

The warning was taken as seriously as it was given, but Adam’s feet paused before he could leave the campsite, blocked by the remaining member of their camping party. “Matt, get your bag.”

“Nah, I’m good. See, I’ve watched you hurt the best man I know in our generation over, and over, and over. You’ve gaslit him. Emotionally abused him. You’ve done everything possible to try to bait the least-jealous person I know. I have pleaded with you to stop. I only made the process longer, hurting my best friend more with every fucking passing day. I have compromised my morals and my ethics by not acting sooner on behalf of the pilot I trust with my life. I feel _stained_ by your treatment of him and of my kid sibling. And you know what? _We’re done._ ”

The young scientist faced him, glasses off, pain written across his entire face as he put his hand over Adam’s heart, fingers spread. “I. Repudiate. You.”

~*~

Shiro was a mess at the end. Hunk had curled him close, arms protective around the muscular frame. Lance looked to Keith and Pidge, who were now hugging more than they were holding each other back. And then he looked to the Princess beside him, who didn’t cry prettily at all. And he sighed and pulled her close, tucking her in to cry silently into his jacket. He looked over the perfectly-white hair at Keith. “What happened afterwards?”

“Matt powered through, which doesn’t surprise me. Shiro had a hard time recovering at first, but we all dragged our sleeping bags onto a spare ground-cloth and fell asleep outside beside the fire in a pile. I found out later that Matt’s hand on Adam had left a deathmark.” With a sigh, the red Lion pilot curled Pidge closer to him. “We got through the night, went back to the Holt’s the next day.”

“And I found out what happened,” Pidge croaked. “I _hated_ it.”

“We didn’t feel any of the reaction, though,” Hunk murmured, one warm hand curled around the back of Shiro’s neck, chasing away the chilled stress-sweat.

“Because he wasn’t soulmated to any of us,” Keith replied softly. “He had two soulmates. And he refused one, and the other had made a very hard decision to live without his only soulmate. If he had been mated with me or with one of you as well, I’m pretty sure we would have felt echoes.”

“Matt was also only leaning bi around that time,” Pidge supplied, wiping their face on their sleeve. “He was more than willing to have a male partner, but he told me later that he was never really comfortable with doing anything more than kissing Adam. They never really got that far because he said he wasn’t able to connect to Adam sexually.”

“You know, it’s very strange to hear that from you,” Shiro admitted.

Shrugging, Pidge replied, “Yeah, but Matt and I would talk about everything. He kinda had a crush on you, but like, for personality only.”

“Do you think he knew we were soulmates?” Shiro asked, honestly curious. He’d never dared to ask Colleen the same question.

Keith grinned at that, and Pidge’s response was deadpan. “He probably figured it out before Dad even had a clue. I don’t know if Dad _ever_ knew, actually.”

“He knew,” Shiro replied softly, eyes brightening with a memory that resurfaced. “He told me to take care of you when we all got back, and he was looking forward to seeing us all fold into the family. He knew, Pidge. And he was very, very happy that both Keith and I were among of your soulmates.”

Keith had a burning question, but part of him was still too scared to bring up his own shortcomings and poor choices as a child. Another part of his mind was tired of hiding. He clenched his left fist, no longer held in one of Pidge’s hands, and opened his mouth.

Pidge’s hand rested over the inside of his left arm, carefully casual as if they were just using it to turn themselves around to stare up at the pilot of the red lion. “I don’t blame you. _None_ of us could _ever_ hold that against you.”

“Never,” Lance hissed, his voice vehement enough that it caused Allura’s head to pop up off of his shoulder. “We could _never_ hold your pain against you, Keith.” He looked to the beautiful lady beside him. “This is something we won’t discuss around you, Princess, I’m sorry. Soulmate privilege.”

“I understand,” she replied, smiling through the tears that still streamed down her face. Their pain was still just so raw. “I also feel that is a perfect phrase for letting me know when I should make myself scarce.”

Shiro finally unearthed himself from Hunk’s broad grip but wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone in the room. “I’m . . . going to bring up something that might also be uncomfortable?”

“The fact that I’m pretty sure you and Keith have been banging each other every night? Pretty sure we know,” Pidge replied with a shit-eating grin. “Pretty sure Lance is jealous for some of that attention. Pretty sure we also know who bit who on the shoulder.”

Shiro facepalmed, his voice filtering through the space between his palm and his cheek. “Oh my god, _Katie_ , what the fuck.”

“For the record, Shiro is the only person who can still call me by that name or I’ll cut a bitch.”

“Dude, you’re _Pidge_ ,” Lance rolled his eyes. “You haven’t told us to call you anything else yet, and I’m not about to use a name that you might not be comfortable with.”

Hunk was grinning. “Hey, Keith. Remember what I said to you about Lance and hate-fucking?”

Lance’s face _burned_ and he resisted the urge to hide in his hoodie. “Hunk, you _didn’t_.”

“Well color me confused and interested,” Shiro replied, causing another squeak from Lance. But the smoldering gaze he leveled on Hunk was enough to make the teen blink. “About more than one of you.”

“O-oh, well, uh . . . Okay? Me?”

Keith was laughing again.

Allura looked at the five Paladins as they dissolved from serious talk into what _felt_ like a melding of Altean alchemy, bringing their energies together in a perfect harmony. It was eerie to feel this, a sense that she had only remembered from a very young age around the previous Paladins, long before corruption had torn apart Voltron. Each of them marked with the echoes of their physical pain, each of them young, each of them determined, each of them _wild_ and unbroken despite their pasts.

“Why do you share marks?” she asked suddenly. “Alteans and the Galra don’t harbor this trait.”

“We don’t know,” Hunk replied honestly. “There’s theories out that it has to do with the way that quantum resonances developed around our corner of the universe, but so far, there’s been no way to track it. How does it work for Alteans?”

“There’s only a mark for a brief amount of time. We don’t scar very easily, unless it has to do with foreign matter damaging a soulmate’s skin. And the shared-pain? I have only heard of that happening if the soulmates’ quintessence has had many, many years to align into perfect synchronicity.”

“Wait, so, like, acid or fire burning? That’s _really_ the only thing that causes a scar for Alteans?” Lance wondered, inwardly trembling at the concept. He hadn’t been conceited about his looks for a very long time, but the mere idea of a burn scar was enough to make him shudder.

Allura nodded. “That’s about it, though. I mean, for that very reason, it’s why it had been rare for Alteans to have tattoos. Unless the shapes and placement matches exactly, the discolored skin will still be visible. Galrans have a different soulmate system, but I believe that it was similar enough to your own, where shared marks are mirrored, but perhaps not for as long as human bodies hold onto the marks. Would you all share a tattoo-mark, do you think?”

Shiro shook his head with a grin, indicating his chest with a smile. “Before I left, we had agreed that it was okay that I get a tattoo, so that I would bring them all into space with me. I mean, they didn’t know that it was _me_ , but they knew that I was going on a mission for a military group that I’d have to be radio silent on for a while. And I got the tattoo, and the mark faded from Keith’s skin within two days, just about the same time. It’s a simple V, which is fucking ironic now, but it’s the Roman numeral for the number five. By that point, I knew there were five of us in our pride. If we had up to eight soulmates, I can add more to the tattoo.”

Pidge’s head whipped around to stare at Shiro when he didn’t used the term ‘cohort.’ While the other three of their soulmates looked confused, they shared a long look that slowly morphed into gentle grins. Pidge nodded. “I’ll tell you three later.”

“I’d . . . like you all to help me design a tattoo for my arm, when we get back home,” Keith said into the quiet that followed Pidge’s words.

Leaning around Allura to tap his fist to Keith’s knuckles, Lance smiled and said, “I think we’d all be happy to help.”

Hunk looked around, then up to Shiro with a small grin, a light blush dusting across his cheeks. “I think that we’re done here except for a couple last housekeeping things.”

“And what’s that?” Pidge asked, genuinely curious. “Wait. I think I know.”

“Yeap. Shiro, Keith, I know I’m teasing about it, but sex for me and Lance with you two is probably still off the table until we hit eighteen. It’s not that far away, but it’s still something that I know Shiro hinted at being uncomfortable about.”

Lance nodded his agreement. “Yeah, I’m not going to push anything, I’m not against kissing or flirting, but I don’t want either of you to feel guilty about holding back or needing to have some form of sex. I’m still not comfortable sharing Hunk all the way yet, but I’m getting there.”

“Platonic snuggles only while Keith and I court you three. Got it.” Shiro nodded.

“And another thing,” Pidge said suddenly. “Fuck this ‘sleeping alone’ bullshit. Let’s convert one of the rec rooms into a shared bedroom and keep our assigned bunks as designated ‘leave me alone’ places when we need space.”

“That’s . . . so . . . perfect,” Keith whispered. “Oh my god, I so need the alone time, guys, it’s nothing personal, but . . . I’m not really a social person all the time like Hunk is. But I know that Shiro and I both need physical contact to sleep right now.”

“We know, gorgeous. You don’t have to try to justify yourself to us.” Shiro smirked at Keith’s sudden blush, and turned to look to Allura. “But this is all only if you’re okay with us converting a room, Princess. This is _your_ home, after all.”

But the princess was already grinning, eyes bright. “Of _course_ I’ll allow it. But only if you allow the occasional slumber party. I’d . . . I would very much like to get to know all of you better.”

Pidge smiled, shrugging. “I think I can say for all of us that we’d like to get to know you better, too. We’re going to be around each other for a while.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** I’m going to use human measurements of time. I really can’t wrap my head around the Altean time measurement units and I really am not willing to try at this time. Call me lazy, but I care more about some details than others. I might go back and edit this later._

“What if she hates how I flirt?”

“Lance—”

“No, really, _what if she does_.”

“Lance, if she hasn’t said anything yet, she clearly hasn’t turned you down entirely,” Shiro finally interrupted, halfway through the food goo that he ate while he stood around. They’d decided to do a bit of a wander while eating, thanks to a slow morning where they didn’t have as many drills and the Galra were really laying low. “I mean, I also think that she qualifies as being over eighteen, so you’d gonna have to keep it tucked until your birthday.”

“. . . oh shit do we have an earth calendar?”

“Yes, you idiot, it’s called _my brain_ ,” Pidge grumbled. “You’ve got another five weeks and two days before you can fuck Shiro or Keith.”

“Yeah, but like you and Allura aren’t flirting like _crazy_. Don’t think I don’t see you both getting all blushy between the alchemy-tech talks.”

Rolling their eyes, Pidge replied, “Yeah, but let’s be realistic here: I’m not about to want to get up her skirts. I don’t really give a rat’s ass about the age of majority except for one reason.”

“No kidding? What’s that?” Lance was genuinely interested, and he leaned closer to his tiny soulmate.

“The moment that I can legally enter you assholes as my soulmates. Now can the two of you hustle out of my hangar? Go bother Keith or something. Leave Hunk alone in the kitchen if you want anything edible for lunch or dinner. I want to work on something with Green.”

Shiro grinned, elbowing Lance as they started walking towards the hangar doors. “Might as well listen to our resident gremlin. They have deadly aim.”

“A nasty bite.”

“Which is much worse than their bark.”

“I’ve heard that they can hack anything vaguely technological.”

“They punched me in the face once. It was magical.”

“If there was a deity of technology, they’d be a reincarnation in the modern age.”

“I heard they once traveled to the moon base and fixed all their security problems within an hour and turned around to get home in time to eat dinner.”

Pidge was trying not to cry with their laughter. So far, despite the idiocy of the system, they really didn’t have anything that they could complain about in regard to their soulmates. They were all pretty good. Shiro was respectful of their space and was only engaging on the “brother” level like he had been before he was kidnapped. And he was looking a _hell_ of a lot better since they’d all started sleeping together. Less of the “insane purple bruises” bruises that had started to hover under their eyes.

Allura had gone above and beyond in the redesign of one of the rec rooms. She had confided in Pidge that it was because of the guilt she still felt in regards to her initial misunderstanding of their dynamics. With Coran, they had almost literally transformed the closest rec room to their individual rooms overnight. The sunken area in front of the couches had been turned into a bed-pit. A _nest_. An actual _nest_ that she had carefully lined with extra pillows, blankets, light throws, anything soft or warm or squishy or firm or . . . really anything that could belong on a bed. There were even new armor racks and organizational solutions for their personal items, all color-coded to their lions of course. The room had become a communal retreat, even with some areas sectioned off by movable screens in order to help make the space feel smaller, cozier.

It had only been two weeks since their talk, and everything was starting to run a hell of a lot smoother. The telepathic devices weren’t as jarring, their shared-mind-space while connected as Voltron was unbelievably strong in comparison to when they had first formed Voltron out of desperation. In some ways, they were working together with such a unified vision that it intimidated Allura. And then in other ways . . . everyone was trying to dodge and escape everyone else.

On the first night where Allura had been allowed into the nest, they’d also realized that they’d forgotten one important detail.

“Wait, so you’re a girl on your world?”

Keith bristled, but didn’t act, waiting to see how Pidge was going to handle this. He could feel a hand, thin and unfamiliar but cable-strong, slide into his own and squeeze. It was a clear reward, and Keith blinked to see Lance smiling at him, then nod back towards where Pidge was still hustling out of their binder behind a screen.

“I’m not a girl. And also not a boy. Right now, at least. I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow, but I’m not really worrying about it right now. Do you have neutral genders on Altea?”

“It’s not common, but there have been recorded cases—”

“They’re not _cases_ ,” Keith snapped, but he was distracted by another pulse of Lance’s hand around his own and stared in confusion at his teammate. “What?”

Suddenly full of confidence, Lance shook his head and gave Keith’s hand a soft swing. “Let Allura finish before you jump down her throat, dude. And let Pidge handle their own conversations. I know you want to defend them, but this isn’t some asshole at the Garrison. It’s _Allura_ and _she’s genuinely curious_ and doesn’t mean any harm. She’s also learning the human vocal intonations for our emotions, and she might not get her tone right. You’re tired, I want to play with your hair, now get the hell over to bed so I can snuggle you.”

Keith was so distracted he didn’t even realize that Allura and Pidge were watching the interaction with broad grins. “Why _me_? Why not Hunk? He snuggles well.”

“Right?” Lance sighed dreamily. Shaking his head, he leaned in closer. “Shiro needs Hunk snuggles. But they’re both dancing around each other.”

“You mean worse than how _you_ dance around Shiro?”

“Yeah, actua—hey!”

“So we need to give them the excuse to snuggle.” And Keith then leaned closer. “And you want the excuse to play with my hair because you’re not brave enough to ask Allura yet.”

“Wow. Right under the bus,” Pidge laughed. “He’s got you down, Lance!”

The Cuban teen blinked twice before grinning. “It’s going to be another few weeks before he can actually get me down, Pidge!”

“I—wow. Okay. That worked. Surprisingly.”

Keith was snickering at the innuendo, and he tugged on Lance’s hand, still firmly in his own. “Come on, then. Let’s give those two lunkheads a reason to pair off. How do you know all this shit about tone differences in languages, anyway?”

“Born in Cuba, grew up speaking Spanish and English and my parents loved playing kids movies in foreign languages. Do you speak anything else?”

“Some Japanese thanks to Shiro. Enough Korean to get around a major city, I think.” And Keith had to swing his mind far, far away for a moment, because the only thing that he could think of was making Lance babble incoherently in as many languages as he could. Drawing in a breath, disguising the moment of weakness with a sigh, he asked, “So what do we need for you to fuck around with my hair?”

Allura watched them gather a few things then settle on the edge of the nest. “I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, Pidge. I simply don’t understand all the complexities of human gender and sexuality yet.”

“You’re just as much an alien to us as we are to you, Princess.” Pidge shrugged. “How about instead of me trying to fill in any gaps that I don’t know about yet, why not tell me about Altean gender norms?”

“I’m afraid it’s rather simple. We all have the same genitalia, but the true gender expression doesn’t appear until second puberty.”

“Second puberty? There’s more than one for Alteans?”

“That’s considered to be the moment when sexual drives first become apparent, usually around our twelfth year.” Allura shrugged. “Some are late-bloomers, some never gain a sexual drive, much like how you’ve described. Second puberty happens around four years after that point, revealing the functional gender of an individual. That’s the closest that I’ve been able to translate it from Altean to English, so please don’t be offended by the term. I suppose that possibly the term ‘gender dynamic’ might also be something to consider for a term to describe our secondary gender-related functions.”

“Alien culture, alien terms. I think I’ll survive the miscommunications until we’re at a point that we have more accurate dictionaries between Altean and English. But here’s my question: you and Coran show some pretty opposite ends of a physical gender expression as seen by many humans. How do you have breasts and he doesn’t?”

“His functional gender is something along the masculine, much like my father was. They’re still capable of carrying a child to term, but they will not be able to produce as much milk for any offspring.”

“Wait. He has a uterus?”

“Don’t the other humans?”

“Uh, no. Not unless someone’s born intersex.”

“Intersex?”

“We generally have two sets of genitalia that are each seen as ‘normal.’ One that’s geared towards producing and delivering sperm, and one that’s geared towards incubating a fertilized egg.”

“How inefficient!” Gasping, Allura clapped her hands over her mouth.

The entire room started laughing, and Pidge stood with a triumphant grin upon their face. “Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you, Princess.”

When Shiro wandered in and Hunk followed after him with a light blush and a cart of food, the room had finally settled down. Pidge kept sneaking glances at Allura, confused at their own emotions and the draw to someone in a way they weren’t expecting. It was almost as if there was something missing from the equation. There was something that was new about meeting this person, someone who never really was part of their group, but at the same time, seemed to seamlessly exist with them. Coran was a kooky motherfucker.

Allura was . . . _Allura_.

And that confused Pidge.

Because Allura was alien, and Allura didn’t have any soulmate scars.

~*~

The crystal shattering during the “open house” made everyone lose their shit. They hadn’t had to coordinate to find their missing member, who had cavalierly shoved Coran further away from the blast. The four other members of the cohort had circled around Lance to assess his injuries. Hunk was very quietly pissed off, knowing that Lance didn’t see himself as valuable as Coran, so he had chosen to keep the older Altean safe.

Allura hung back as the soulmates carefully maneuvered the unconscious young man into a position that wouldn’t cause additional harm.

She knew.

She felt her back burn, she felt the ache of a sting, the throb of a wound that was going to heal slowly if Lance wasn’t shoved into a healing pod. And she knew that it would scar. Burns scarred after all.

They locked the castle down, they weathered the several fronts of the singular battle. Lance was finally put in the only healing pod that would run on emergency power and Sendak was contained in stasis. And that was when Allura retreated to her rooms, shaking. Hunk and Coran were off getting the new Balmeran crystal. Allura couldn’t find it in herself to trust Keith very far for some reason that she didn’t even know yet. Shiro seemed to be as gay as a man could get, so she didn’t want to bother any of his boundaries that she might not know yet. And the mice were useless, the dear things.

That . . . left Pidge.

She stood in the middle of her room, trembling with pain and exhaustion, hands gripped into fists and not sure what to do next. She was paralyzed with her indecision.

“Princess?”

Jumping, staring, she saw none other than Shiro and Pidge together standing just inside her door. “You must have been knocking; I apologize for being so lost in my thoughts, paladins.”

Shiro thumbed at Pidge. “They said that you were scanning weird on the Castle’s systems, and we wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

Allura smiled. “I wouldn’t want to put either of you out—”

“Yeah, but the boys can be pretty dumb and blind when everyone’s worried about a wound.” Pidge was unflinching in her blunt assessment of Keith, Hunk, and Lance. “And I’ve got a hunch. You’ve been keeping your back away from anyone, and you flinched several times when someone would touch your shoulder or arm. Lance’s injury was a burn. What’s your back look like?”

Allura flushed with shame. “You don’t . . . you five . . . And Shiro’s _gay_?”

The two began grinning, and the expression startled Allura into realizing that this _wasn’t_ a bad thing. Shiro took a few steps forward and held out both hands palm-up. “I’m gay, yeah, but that doesn’t mean that I will hate snuggling up with another soulmate. Besides, if you have a penis, I’m pretty sure that we can come to an agreement.”

“Shiro! Pidge is _right there_!”

“Oh, don’t _you_ start, too.” But Pidge was still grinning. “And now you don’t _dare_ think that you don’t belong with us. Also, stop feeling guilty about wooing Lance; he’s seriously head-over-heels for you.” They were walking closer, revealing that they had a human first-aid bag in their hand. “Right, hair up, dress off your back.”

“You really don’t—”

“Don’t finish that.” Shiro said, voice soft and firm. “We do. Everyone has already handled theor own new scars, outside of _you_. And you need our attention the most and we know you feel guilty, but there’s no way that you could have known that this was going to happen. Please let us help you. You don’t deserve to be in this much pain. I wouldn’t let Pidge or Keith go so long without treatment, so why should I let you?”

Watery eyes fell to the floor.

Pidge leaned in, voice soft and firm, “Do you honestly believe that you aren’t deserving of our attention, Princess? You’re one of _ours_. Can I pull your hair out of the way?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Do you want me to keep asking pointed questions?”

“Yes . . . I . . . I’m not used to asking for help.”

Shiro’s hands tightened around Allura’s, leading her to sit on a backless stool so that Pidge could reach her hair, taking up the next round of questioning. “Would you accept my platonic touch to help spread some salve on your back to help soothe and heal the scarring? Pidge, Hunk, Keith, and I have already done this for each other. Lance is healing in the pod, and you’re the only one of our pride who hasn’t been treated for the burn-scar.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Did you want to hold Pidge’s hands while I do this?”

Pidge had swiftly braided Allura’s hair before spinning it up into a loose bun, resting deft fingertips carefully on the tops of the Princess’ shoulders, which was about an inch beyond the leading edge of the soulmate-scar that was currently chafing against their shirt. They felt the massive sigh before Allura whispered, “Pidge, are you comfortable working on my back? I don’t want to damage your hands if I squeeze too hard.”

“Are you _that_ much stronger than humans are?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“We can work with that. Can I open the back of your dress?”

“Please.” The relief was easily heard in the Altean’s voice, which made Shiro and Pidge exchange a look as the younger Paladin began to gently pull the fabric away from irritated skin. 

They sighed at seeing the damage. “Shiro, go get a towel for Allura’s front, please.”

“Don’t bother; they’re only there for show right now.”

Both paladins snorted their laughter, but Pidge was the one to speak first. “Dammit, I’m glad you’re ours because I love your mindset.” Pidge helped remove Allura’s sleeves while Shiro kept chuckling. “I don’t know what Alteans think about burn severities, but this is pretty bad. I’m going to be as gentle as possible, but I really think that you should come and rest with us in the nest tonight. It’ll help speed along healing if you were human. Besides, I don’t think that you should sleep alone.”

“Is that a human culture thing?”

“Yeah, and one that we think you could benefit from,” Shiro replied, taking her hands and smiling. “Please don’t break my bones, okay? Feel free to break the prosthetic, though.”

“I wouldn’t dare!” Allura gasped as Pidge began to work from the edges of the burn in towards the center, carefully rubbing the salve over the tender, inflamed skin. Tears flowed silently down Allura’s face at the tender treatment as it finally hit her that she had soulmates.

_She had soulmates._


	12. Chapter 12

When Lance stumbled out of the pod half-aware of his surroundings and feeling . . . “Is thiiis what fffeeeling drunk is liiike?” Stumbling, he was caught in strong, familiar arms and an embrace that helped his mind start chugging along.

“Oh dear, I don’t believe we’ve calibrated this correctly for humans!”

He knew that voice. It was new, though? Was it?

“But first, let’s get you something to eat and drink if you can walk, Lance.”

A gorgeous face, tanned and framed in soft white hair, swam into his vision. “Are you asking me out on a date? Because you are _out of this world_.”

“Did he just pair two sentences of two different pick-up-lines?”

Pidge snorted. “Yep. He’s fine.”

~*~

The goo was awful, but Lance was feeling a lot more centered and awake now that he had the chance to change into something normal again. Once he had caught up with all the maneuvers of the Galra situation, Lance looked around the faces before him. “So what am I missing? What happened that you’re not telling me?”

Hunk’s brow furrowed and he looked to Coran and Keith, both of whom shrugged. Shiro grinned at Lance, his step forward masking Allura’s anxious touch of fingertips to Pidge’s elbow. “Well, we were a little wrong about something.”

“Wrong? What happened? Is everyone okay?” Lance’s eyes darted around to all faces, and locked onto Allura’s trembling silence.

Pidge grinned, taking Allura’s hand and squeezing it. “Looks like she’s actually ours, Lance.”

His hands flew up to cover his mouth. After a moment he stood, taking Allura’s other hand and whispered, “I’m so sorry you had to find out like this. Oh my God, though. _You’re ours._ ”

Coran sat heavily in a chair, eyes suspiciously shiny but not in a way that meant outright sorrow, but some sadness was also evident. Hunk and Keith stared hard at Allura before Hunk nodded as if confirming something for himself. “That explains a lot of things, actually.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “Especially her draw to constantly be up our butts.”

“Keith!” several people chorused, but Allura giggled and squeezed both Lance and Pidge’s hands. She shared a smile with the slight, dark-haired man.

Allura smiled, tears starting to fall as she pulled Lance into a firm hug. “He’s got a point, though. I didn’t realize that it was the soulmate draw, just . . . I wanted to be around all of you as much as possible. I sometimes over-do things, and I’m sorry. It’s something I need to work on.”

“You were raised to be Queen,” Coran said softly, a smile brightening his face into a proud glow. “Essentially, a larger-than-life individual of an already-outgoing and charismatic race. It’s no wonder that your mannerisms may be a little overwhelming to a more conservative race.”

Keith came up behind Lance to give him a hug, then slid around to rest a hand on Allura’s shoulder. “We’ll adjust to each other. I’m admittedly a bit antisocial.”

“It’s called _being introverted_ , and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Hunk replied sharply, ruffling dark hair and making the ace pilot squawk with indignation. “But seriously, Princess, you . . . had a mark?”

“I fear that I’ll always have a mark. This was foreign material that exploded into Lance’s back, along with some burns.”

Lance looked ready to cry that he’d inadvertently hurt Allura. Keith knew a deeper guilt. “Doesn’t seem fair to keep this a secret from only one person at this point.” He looked over his shoulder at Coran. “This is privileged information.”

“I don’t have to know all your secrets, especially cohort secrets—”

“Not all, you _do_ need to know this one. Because this . . . this is something that I will always struggle with, no matter how good my life gets. And you’re Allura’s advisor; you will have to know how to help her if my mind’s in a bad enough place.”

Silent, solemn in a way that none of the humans had seen, Coran replied, “I have hoped _beyond_ hope for her entire life that her soulmate would be a kind, loving person. It was heartbreaking to consider that she would not have one when we awoke from the cryo-slumber. I cannot tell you how _happy_ I am that her heart will be guarded jealously by not just one, but _all_ of Voltron’s paladins. Keith, _you_ trust _me_ to continue to assist Allura as closely as I have?”

“Is it closer than traditional standards?”

“We’re almost familial, which if Altea were still here, it would be questioned if we were remaining appropriate with one another,” Allura replied softly.

“I still don’t see a problem with this,” Keith huffed. “Look, Coran, I get that soulmates are different in your culture, but in human culture, it’s considered very unhealthy if a soulmate cuts off their partner from their familial support. She’ll always need you, and that’s okay. None of _us_ could advise her on being a royal person, that’s for fucking sure.”

Shiro nodded, his voice carefully gentle. “We’re not perfect, but I think I speak for us all that we’re glad she’s ours, and we’re glad that she has family with you.”

“Even if some of us are too gay to function. Right, Keith?” Pidge snickered at the huff and glare that they got for that comment.

But the humor passed and Keith stepped back and pulled his jacket off, turning his left wrist over silently, trying to find words but his mind came up entirely blank. He watched as Allura untangled herself from Pidge, right hand reaching over to touch the series of thin, pale scars. She looked at Hunk, the only one not wearing long sleeves, and he turned his wrist over to show the corresponding soulmate scars. Her voice was low, respectful. “You still feel very guilty about this.”

“Incredibly,” Keith whispered, voice cracking and feeling his limbs start to shake.

Shiro didn’t exactly rush over, but he didn’t take his time, either, slipping his arms around Keith’s waist and resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder. Hunk took Keith’s right hand, and Pidge wedged herself under his left arm to lean against his torso. Allura tugged Lance to get between herself and Keith and Hunk, reaching arms around both Lance and Keith. And Keith whispered, “I hate that I hurt them all so badly, Allura. On so many levels.”

“Me too,” Lance whispered, voice hoarse. “But I don’t know if there was any other choice that I could make.”

Keith rubbed at his face, trying hard to hide his tears, but he couldn’t manage it with everyone so close around him, supporting both himself and Lance. Lance, who made a man’s choice to protect someone whose knowledge was irreplaceable, taking the brunt of the explosion. He finally reached over to pull Lance’s forehead to his own, initiating the affectionate contact and sighing when everyone settled a little closer in their living knot of limbs and pain. It was rare that he initiated anything with Lance, mostly because they still bounced off of each other so sharply.

“We’re really fucked up,” Keith whispered.

“Yeah, we are,” Lance whispered back. “I don’t think I would want it any other way, though?”

“You know this keeps things interesting.” Hunk lowered his head to nuzzle at the nape of Lance’s neck.

“I couldn’t ask for better soulmates,” Shiro replied. “I had hoped for so long . . . and Adam’s rejection hurt so badly, but with all of you at my side, I know that I can be the leader you need me to be. And the soulmate that I want to be for each of you.”

“I swear to god, if this gets even more sappy, I’m gonna smack every single one of you,” Pidge warned, pressing their face against Keith’s chest, their hand reaching up to cover one of Allura’s.

With a sigh, Keith smiled, eyes still sad and distant. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

~*~

That night, post-launch as they orbited in the shadow of a moon, Allura stood outside the door to the paladins’ communal room, hand raised to knock, but frozen with indecision.

“Man!”

Jumping, Allura turned to see Lance walking up, hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face. “I always catch soulmates stuck outside my door. Come here often, beautiful? Or am I just this lucky to see you show up for the first time like a fresh dawn on the ocean?”

“Lance,” she cajoled, unable to keep a smile from crossing her face or a blush to dust her cheeks.

He froze, eyes wide before a blush crossed his own cheeks. “Oh, that’s just not fair. I can’t even flirt without getting all flustered that . . . uh . . .”

“That it’s taken seriously and that I might also be interested? Whoever did such a number on your self-esteem should do a few rounds with me as punishment.”

“Hot. But also dangerous territory until I’m an adult.” But he was grinning up at her without any remorse. His eyes sobered just a little. “I’m really, really happy that you’re okay with all of us.”

“More than simply ‘okay,’ Lance. I am grateful in a way that I’m not sure I know how to express.” She shuffled her feet, unsure of how to proceed. She didn’t know how welcome she was within the cohort, or even if they could all put aside socio-economic standings, or even if everyone was okay with aliens—

Lance’s fingers wove through her own, and Allura focused back on his face. “Lance?”

“Do you want to move in with us? At least with your everyday stuff?”

“I wouldn’t dare intrude . . .”

Sliding the door open, Lance called in, “Who wants Allura to move in?”

Hunk and Pidge popped up off the couches, dropping their tablets on a table. Pidge waited by the door while Hunk wandered to the en suite shower room door, opening it to call in, “When you two are done, come help us move Allura in!”

“Yep!” Keith’s voice echoed out.

Shiro’s voice burbled, like he was still dunking his hair under the stream. “Won’t be long!” 

Closing that door, he walked over to the trio standing patiently at the door into the suite, beaming at Allura. “We weren’t sure if you wanted to come room with us heathens. But we’re absolutely happy to welcome you.”

She nodded, for once unsure of her place among a group of people. But Lance squeezed her hand and said, “House rules time?”

Pidge laughed. “House rules!”

Swinging their hands like children, Lance grinned as he began leading her back to her rooms. “Rule number one: don’t be an asshole.” He waited for her laugh to settle before adding, “Rule number two: if you think you’ve offended someone, chances are high that you did so figure it the fuck out and if you need mediation, grab someone to help. Rule number three: have fun.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s fairly straightforward.”

“Yeah, we’re all pretty simple when it comes down to it.” Hunk grinned. “Okay, now can I tell you guys about Shay? Whatever. I’ll tell you about Shay. You’ll love her. I hope you approve of her. I’d love to have her as an occasional lover, but if you’re not chill with that, I think she’d be okay with waiting. So her culture has this thing where they have tribes and people have a standard of three other partners. She was so stoked to hear that I’d already had my soulmates, or my tribe, and she was--”

And Allura realized that she’d be okay.

~*~

Late that night, a small figure detached itself from the puddle of snoring humanoids to slip out of the room. Two sets of blue eyes snapped open, but one figure sat up, leaning down to kiss the forehead of the paladin beside her. “Sleep. I’ll see what they’re up to.”

Lance sighed and settled back down, curling back against Shiro, who had chosen to sleep between himself and Hunk. Keith had taken Hunk’s other side, and Pidge had been on the outside, jetpacking along Keith’s back. Allura had taken the other outside to be close to Lance. She was still shaken from how close they came to losing him.

Allura knew her castle. She always knew who was where because of the lions and their link with her as their guardian. So when she left the room, she grabbed a large comforter and followed the “feel” of the tiniest, fiercest paladin. To one almost-sense, something less than actual vision but more than a hallucination, she followed a scrappy green lion through the halls. One hallway before she was about to catch up, it paused to stare long and hard at her before blinking out of sight. She swung the comforter around her shoulders, pulling her braid free and making herself comfortable. When she opened the door to the observatory, she smiled. “So this is where you got to.”

Pidge didn’t do more than look up for a half-second before returning to their laptop screen. “Sorry. I just can’t sleep.”

“May I join you?”

That made Pidge’s hands still from their frantic typing, and they sighed, looking up. “Yes.”

Settling on the couch, Allura opened up one side of her impromptu robe. “I often find that it gets a little chilly even for Alteans during the night hours. Would you like some of the comforter?”

Silently, Pidge curled up beside Allura, quickly cocooned against the world.

They sat like that for almost an hour, until Pidge whispered, “What if the guys want me to be one gender or another? Female or male?”

Allura blinked, speaking before she could filter her words. “Well, then they’d certainly have a problem with my natural equipment, now wouldn’t they?”

Startled into a watery laugh, Pidge whispered, “But you’re _not_ human, Allura.”

“Well, _clearly_. And if they have had no problem with you being agender as long as they’ve known you, why would they start having a problem _now_ of all times?”

“Because you look more female than I do?”

“Doesn’t mean that I _am_.”

“But I . . . kinda want to look a little more female?”

“Then that’s entirely your choice, Pidge.” Allura ran her fingers through short hair. “Do I make you wish you were one gender or the other by being as female as my race can get?”

“Sort of. I mean. You’re so pretty, you’re elegant, you’re effortlessly female, and I’m . . . I’m not.”

“I know . . . knew of many female Alteans who were also far less feminine than myself. Not only am I female and feminine, but I was trained and raised to be a queen. So take all that implied and enforced femininity and add to it that I had to also be a visual symbol for my people . . .” Allura sighed. “As terrible as it is, I am somewhat grateful that I do not have to wear gowns on a daily basis anymore. Flight suits are ever so much more satisfying to wear.”

“I think,” Pidge said slowly, leaning their head against Allura’s shoulder, “that you shouldn’t feel guilty for exploring that.”

“And _I_ think,” Allura replied softly, “that you shouldn’t feel like you have to choose any gender based upon the opinions of your soulmates. Myself absolutely included in that, Pidge. There are many kinds of peoples and genders and sexualities and even things that we don’t even know about yet. Why should you fit anyone’s mold but your own?”

“Because,” Pidge’s voice grew watery, “because I thought that I would just go back to being a girl when I started getting boobs and shit. But I don’t _feel_ like a girl.”

“Well, breasts are hardly any good indication of what gender you are. They’re just what your current hormones are programmed for.” Allura sighed. “There’s so many levels of consent that needs to be obtained before Coran or I could offer assistance, and even if we could, we would have to program in human biology to synthesize what you need so it would take time.”

“Could my dad do that? Give consent for all this when we find him?”

“Absolutely. I wish to honor the laws of your home planet, and while I have no doubt that you are maturing beyond the years of your peers from what I’ve been told . . . it still remains that you’re under the age of majority and consent.”

Pidge sighed. “I know. I hate some of the legal stuff.” They fidgeted with the edge of the comforter again, then asked, “Who else is awake?”

“Lance roused just enough to notice you were leaving, but I let him know that I would see if you’re okay.” Allura’s hand never stopped running through Pidge’s wavy hair, pausing only occasionally to play with a few strands before returning to long, soothing strokes. “Searching for your father and brother this late at night will only make you grumpy tomorrow morning. After training, let’s sit with everyone to work on schedule for various projects and goals.”

“Anything Voltron-related is gonna end up taking priority,” Pidge grumbled, rubbing irritably at their eyes.

Grimacing, Allura whispered, “I’m afraid so. But you are the only one with family captured by the Galra at this point; I’m sure we can place their recovery second on our priority list.”

“Since we’ll be tailing the Galra pretty closely?”

“Exactly. What is the phrase Hunk said yesterday about two stones and one bird?”

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“And shall we also hit the two birds with one stone and go back to rest with our cohort?”

“How is that two goals?”

“We both get rest, and we both get to snuggle with people who care very much about us just as we are.”

“Fine,” Pidge grumbled, reaching over to close their laptop and place it on their lap. “But I want to be carried back.”

Laughing, Allura lifted her littlest soulmate effortlessly and walked back towards the doors. When they entered the room again, she paused to put the laptop on a table, barely moving the drowsy Pidge. When she approached the nest, Lance lifted the edge of the blanket and whispered, “Pidge, my dear and my ferocious kitten. C’mere.”

They fell into his arms, and he snuggled them close as they whispered, “I miss dad and I still don’t want to be male _or_ female.”

“You always overthink this sort of shit late at night,” Shiro groaned, reaching over with his Galra arm and pushing their hair away from their face. “Pidge. We’ll find Sam and Matt. And you can be whatever gender you want to be.” They wove their fingers through Shiro’s, and he pulled his head up enough to smile at them reassuringly. His voice was soft, gentle. “I love you, gremlin.”

“I love you, too,” they whispered, eyes misting up.

Lance kissed one away before curling Pidge closer, careful to keep them comfortable while they held tightly onto Shiro. Allura settled up close behind Pidge’s back.

They had a hard road to walk, but they would walk it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Closing Author’s Note:** I’ve started a Discord chat for the various fandoms I’ve written in because there’s very little community for folks online nowadays. There’ll be chats about current projects, writing resources, and all sorts of shenanigans._
> 
> Join the Discord here: https://discord.gg/DZBBvm


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Well, it’s the start of the season for me! If you are unaware, I’m part of a band called The Penniless Jacks, and this is the kickoff to many Northeast outdoor renaissance faires that we’re going to be performing for. If you want to follow us, we’re on FB, IG, and YouTube. You’ll find our upcoming performance schedule updated as we go on FB, as well as extras such as Music Mondays, daily life selfies, and us idiots just having a grand time around other fun-loving idiots. So come join us this weekend and next at The New Hampshire Renaissance Faire! It’s a 501c3 nonprofit that gives proceeds back to the community. _
> 
> _In other news, if you would like to join a Discord that I’m hosting, you can use this invite code: https : // discord . gg / maMMkW (remove spaces). I’ve been having some trouble helping people join, so if you are having trouble, you can message me there I’m SineadRivka#3630._

In the wake of the Balmera battle against the Galra, and a few days after the castleship tried to kill everyone and Allura had to say a final farewell to her father by destroying the AI, Shiro realized that he really wasn’t anywhere near “okay.” He stood in the shower, flexing the prosthetic hand and feeling the water sluice off between the fake knuckles. He’d learned so much about what he had done while captured. His muscle-memory had changed from that of martial arts being a hobby, to martial arts being a survival tool and a first response. Keith had unnaturally-fast reaction times, thankfully, and the few times that he’d lashed out during a nightmare were handled diplomatically. Right now? The thought of punching a hole in a wall sounded amazing and oh-so-satisfying, but also sounded like it’d hurt where his flesh met metal.

Sighing, he turned the water off and began to walk out of the shower area just as Lance entered the large bathroom, focused on scrolling through a tablet with a light frown. Heat blossomed over Shiro’s face, irritating the edges of his scar across his nose, and he was thankful for leaving a towel on the rack by the shower doors. The last thing he needed was to get himself in trouble by his own rules. The tan figure stood by one of the refresher machines peeling off the top half of his training suit, revealing the healed scar from the crystal explosion, and the beginnings of true adult musculature, far more wiry and deft in construction than Shiro’s mass. “Shiro!”

“Hey. Good job, today.”

Lance laughed, carefully rubbing some dried sweat-salt away from his eyebrows. “I did all right. I’ve got a long way to go before I’m anywhere near you or Keith’s level.” He paused, eyes darting over Shiro’s face. “You okay? You look a bit like hell.”

“That bad, huh?” Rubbing the back of his neck, the older man shook his head and pulled open his locker, where he had stored some loose lounging clothes for after showers. “I’d probably have problems if we were to be poking at each other’s head-holes tonight.”

“Ugh. I don’t even want to _think_ about it. I’m still having problems with that airlock scare. I can’t walk down that hallway without shivering.”

“Lance . . .”

The teen shook his head. “I’ll be fine. We’ve all faced nasty traumas before, we’re going to just have to get used to them happening faster and closer together than before. But we’re good at this, right? Good at adapting?”

“We are. Lance, go shower.”

“What, because I stink?”

“No, because it’ll help. I’ll stay out here and I’ll talk with you, okay? Just get under some hot water. It’ll help. I promise.”

Lance ended up being quick to comply after Shiro disappeared into a stall to get dressed. It was a good thing that they were all being so considerate about this, but it was also something that turned the knife in the wound a little. He wanted to be able to enjoy adult company, but he only felt able to connect with Keith on that level right now. And he worried about what kind of relationship he and Pidge would have. Hunk was right after Lance with his interest in Shiro, but he was sweetly embarrassed about it, too. So while he continued to ruminate, Shiro and Lance tossed small topics back and forth while Lance scrubbed the dried sweat off of his skin until Shiro realized that he had been silent for a moment too long.

“Shiro? You okay? You got real quiet.”

Shiro blinked and sighed. No use lying. “No, I’m not okay. I think I need the distraction as much as you do, Lance.”

“What’s going on? Wait. Unless you don’t wanna talk about it, in which case, that’s totally cool and I respect that.”

Taking a moment and fighting against his own mind, daring himself to trust this soulmate, this perfect complement to himself and Keith and Hunk and Pidge and Allura and he couldn’t help the break in his voice as he whispered, “I feel broken, Lance. Like not all of me came home when I escaped the Galra.”

The water shut off.

Lance stormed out, entirely naked, and Shiro spluttered as his face heated so fast that he felt dizzy. Lance waved his hand and muttered, “I was born two weeks late, it’s one week until I’m eighteen according to Pidge, _age doesn’t matter when I would die for you,_ now get the fuck over here, you amazing lunkhead.” And he drew Shiro into an embrace, cheek pressing against cheek. Shiro melted into the embrace, hot tears surprising him as they bounced off both Lance’s shoulder and his own nose. He felt Lance pull them down into a corner, sitting on a towel to protect his skin from the chill of the tiles. And there they sat, whispering their insecurities to each other and reminding each other that no matter how strong they are to the world, it’s okay to be vulnerable with your soulmates.

Keith peeked around a corner, saw that Lance had things well in hand, and smiled at the younger almost-man, giving him a thumb’s up and slinking out the door. Lance felt something untangle in his chest and he whispered, “Keith was waiting for you, but I think that he approves of us, of this.”

Shiro smiled, heart breaking all over again for his desert rat. But he settled his ear against a bare chest, eyes falling to half-mast as he and Lance kept each other warm and safe.

~*~

Keith was meticulous about Red’s care. After every flight, he would visually inspect all of her bulkhead surfaces. He’d scrub char and ash off her plating by hand, inspecting the enamel cracks and carefully repairing what he could on his own before asking Coran for help. He knew that all the other pilots had done similarly for their own lions.

All but Shiro.

Shiro and Black had a very strong connection and relationship, but the older pilot tended to treat the lion like a regular ship at times. Both Allura and Keith noticed, waiting for a change in behavior towards the semi-sentient ships, but it never came. While Lance helped Shiro, Keith pulled Allura aside. “You’re the key to the lions, and you’re also familiar with the technology. Will Shiro’s lion suffer or fail if he’s not . . . uh . . .”

“Grooming her?” Allura asked, mind latching onto the word and not letting go. She didn’t know why she pulled a Galra form of affection to mind, but shook off the chill without giving any outward indication that it felt like she was missing something important.

Keith finished pulling on a longer-lasting jetpack before replying, making eye contact with the Princess. “I think he just needs a bit of a nudge. I’m going to get Red, but can you help me with the lions? I think that Black needs a little extra care while Shiro figures himself out a little more.”

“You really look after Shiro. It’s a good trait for the second-in-command of Voltron. I can certainly help with diagnostics if Black will communicate with me. She’s very strong-willed, but also quite caring from what I can recall.” Smiling, Allura was glad that she had already put on a flight suit for the day. Pulling on a second jetpack and grabbing her own helmet, she walked with Keith to Red’s hangar. “What’s it like, being bonded to the lion?”

“I mean, wouldn’t you know more about that?” Keith was genuinely curious, his helmet pinned between his elbow and his side.

Shaking her head, Allura replied, “I’m genuinely curious. I can sense the lions and what their conditions are since they’ve been keyed to me, but they are more than likely going to be more talkative to their paladins.”

Taking a moment, Keith murmured, “It’s a little hard to describe, but Red is like . . . she’s always _purring_ in the back of my mind, like she’s pleased that we’re such a good match. She’s unpredictable, wild, fierce, and it’s like she’s always been there.” He smiled softly. “It’s less lonely with her around. She and I work together to guide her. It’s not just me piloting her.”

Allura was shocked. This was a deeper level of connection than she originally had thought Keith capable of. “That’s _phenomenal_.”

He opened the hangar door and Red crouched, peering down at her pilot and the visitor. Allura felt the _flash_ of seeing the red maneless lion perched between the front paws, lean and wary. At her pause, Keith asked, “What is it?”

“I . . . can sometimes feel the lions and almost ‘see’ a version of them. It’s a somewhat mystical side of how Alteans can perform alchemy. We can sense, sometimes ‘see,’ the form that a quintessence-fueled and semi-sentient craft can take. There used to be specialized alchemists very strong in their craft who would be called in for ship communications if something was going wrong that mechanics or alchemists with other foci couldn’t figure out.” She smiled softly at Red. “This is how I keep finding Pidge when they decide to go missing. Green shows up and leads me to them.”

Keith looked up at his ship with a smile. “And she just showed you a part of herself?”

“Yes. I wonder if you would be able to see her someday.” Allura smiled up at the noble ship. “But humans don’t sense quintessence the way that Alteans have.”

Keith blinked for a moment before approaching his lion and raising his hand up to greet her. “Maybe not unassisted. Think it has anything to do with the way that I was able to track an energy signature to find Blue? Nobody else seemed to be able to find the lion.”

Allura drew in a breath, then shrugged. “My current theory is that you were able to track the lion because of the soulmate link that you share with Lance.”

_“Hey, beautiful, care to let us in?”_

The words echoed around Keith’s mind and he sighed. “Blue really is something amazing. Not as amazing as my Red, but she’s certainly something wonderful.” Red bowed her head, and Keith jumped, activating his jets to jump up and land on the top of Red’s head. He paused when she didn’t move, then grinned. “Come on up, Princess. Red likes the idea of grooming Black while Lance and Shiro rest.”

~*~

Lance blinked as Shiro stiffened slightly, lifting his head up to tilt it to one side. “Hey. Do you feel that?”

“No? Feel what?” Lance looked around before looking _within_ , a sensation he was still getting used to, but was getting faster at with practice. He was finally getting the hang of this lion-communication thing after the crystal explosion, and Blue was super mother-hen over him. She did want she could to help him, and to help him help the other paladins, what with coming from a large family himself.

_Bring the Black Paladin to his hangar._

It wasn’t _words_ , per se, but he could feel the draw to get closer to Blue, to bring whomever was with him, and a sense of warm love and acceptance.

“Huh. Up you get. Blue wants you in your hangar.”

Within moments, Shiro was up, shocked that his clothing was dry and so was Lance— He turned his head away with a blush before his gaze could travel too much lower. “Uh.”

“You’re fucking adorable,” Lance laughed. “Okay, okay.” He pulled one of the towels around his waist and stood.

“Do you believe in birthday sex?” Shiro blurted as he followed Lance into their room. He just _barely_ kept himself from face-palming in embarrassment.

Lance paused from pulling his spare flight suit out of his locker, one that wasn’t spaceworthy anymore but perfectly fine when within pressurized environments. He was grinning the entire time. “I believe in sex. End of story. And Hunk has called dibs on the first round of birthday sex, which is probably going to happen right after midnight if I know him.” He began dressing behind the door of the locker, and when he closed the door, it was painfully clear that he was entirely behind that idea.

“But then . . . he’d still be a minor.”

Lance paused, rolling this topic around in his head for a long few minutes as he pulled his boots on. Shiro had taken the brief moment to change into his own flight suit. Neither bothered with their armor, not yet. It wasn’t until Lance had taken Shiro’s hand and began pulling them along, taking the long way to Black’s hangar, that he had found the words to say. “I don’t think I hold to that, not with the fact that Hunk and I have been having sex for about nine months, give or take some days. He’s younger than me, sure, but he’s also way more mature than I think I’ll ever be. I don’t think that he and I are likely to stop having sex for several months, especially since it’s a massive comfort for each of us after close calls. I know that you and Keith do the same thing.”

Shiro looked down. “I can’t shake that it’s wrong for me.”

“For _you_ , and that’s entirely cool and I respect that. There’s a greater age difference between us; you met us as teenagers while you’re an adult. And beyond the age difference issue, I _know_ that you still have several emotional road blocks thanks to how Adam treated you, which probably were made worse with the fact that you have PTSD from being prisoner. And none of us blame you for that. We’re not here for a quick romance, Shiro; we’re here for the rest of our lives. I don’t want to hold back from loving Hunk because our dynamic absolutely includes the sexual expression, and I don’t think that he would hold back either if our ages were switched.”

“I’m not judging you,” Shiro reassured, his voice soft, reassuring. He took Lance’s hand and smiled at the blush. “I’m just curious and I know that our relationships are all going to take some time before they settle into something a little more formal.”

Lance _laughed_. “If you think ‘formal’ is going to happen with our gaggle of goofballs, you’ve got another . . . thing . . . coming.” He looked up at the door to Black’s hangar. “Since when do you leave this door cracked open?”

“I don’t?” Shiro asked, but voices were on the other side of the door, and he smelled some faint enamel or paint thinner fumes. Carefully, he opened the door to stop and whisper, “oh.”

Peeking around his shoulder, Lance smiled broadly, gently pushing him deeper into the large hangar. Shiro couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Four of the five lions were in the room, three posed to assist where their pilot was working on Black in some way. Allura herself was perched on top of Black’s head with some diagnostic screens hovering around her as she fiddled with _something_ that Shiro couldn’t make out from where he stood. Coran turned and smiled brightly. “Lance, can you fetch Blue? I’ll need her assistance to calibrate a temperature sensor.”

Shiro felt Lance kiss his cheek, and he squeezed the warm hand in his own before it disappeared. Keith leapt down from one of Black’s thrusters, his own jetpack slowing his descent before he landed lightly a few feet away. The level of grace shocked Shiro all over again, making him wonder if Keith was entirely human after all, since they all knew very well by now that aliens were very real and some were very compatible with humans. With firm, proud steps, he was swept into a heated kiss that had Lance and Hunk cheering while Allura laughed at his surprise. Pidge called with a voice full of laughter from where they were entirely out of sight, “Gross, they’re kissing!”

“What is this?” Shiro asked when he had caught his breath.

“We know you’ve been having some trouble keeping up with Black’s maintenance, and we wanted to help you with giving her a solid grooming before the next mission. Red says that Black has been helping you in a lot of other ways, and that she didn’t mind not getting what Hunk called a ‘spa day,’ but—”

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, “you don’t have to justify it. You’re right; I’ve been having a rough time. And was it you that initiated this?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the time with Lance earlier.”

“You’re welcome.”

By the time that Blue came trotting proudly into Black’s hangar, Shiro was under Black’s instrumentation, a smile on his face. The dark partner in the back of his mind was purring happily. She liked the feeling of the Soulmate cohort around her, the pilots all connected to one another _and_ the princess. It was a good balance, and she would do everything in her power to preserve her paladin’s pride of mates.

Shiro smiled again, the ghost sensation of a cat shoving her cheek against his jaw flickering into a full sensation and then it was gone.

“That’s my girl.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Note:** I struggled with this chapter. If you like it, thank all the major muses for me, please! I'm also testing posting this using my phone and a Bluetooth keyboard._
> 
> _Don't forget that there's a Discord chat available for not only this, but other writing projects and nerdy, furbaby and scaleybaby discussions! Found here: https://discord.gg/MnwzMDt_

Allura stared hard at the comatose Galra in her medical bay, lips curled into a silent snarl and brows furrowed. She _hated_ them. She hated them _all_ for what they had done to her planet, her home, her family and friends. She didn’t know _how_ this . . . _creature_ had survived for as long as he had during the tactical bridge that Red had requested. And dammit, she couldn’t damn well go against what the Black Paladin had decreed:

Amnesty.

Amnesty for a _monster_.

She turned, shoulder brushing Keith’s as she stormed out the door that he just passed through, storming off. The young man blinked twice, then sighed and continued on, glad that he hadn’t dropped anything as he parked beside Shiro. The older man stared up at Ulaz’s pained face from where he sat on a stool, elbows on his knees. “I’m worried, Keith.”

“Yeah, and I bet you’re hungry, too. Here.”

Taking the bowl, Shiro scooped some of the food goo into his mouth, swallowed, and said, “Allura is _heated_ about this.”

“Allura has reason to be mad. Like I have a reason to be mad that the Garrison tossed me out on my ass when they did.” Keith began working on his own bowl, speaking between bites. “Her prejudice is really throwing a wrench into our dynamics, though. She’s really shut down around me, you know?”

“I know, but I can’t help but feel that it was important to order her to rescue him with a tactical jump.” Shiro sighed. “She hates that I didn’t specify who or what we were saving, and she’s mad at me for it. Because you _know_ that I withheld that information.”

A singular noise of perfect disgust emitted from Pidge at the doorway. “All of us in your head-hole know that you made a military choice to save what we humans all agreed was a valuable resource, Shiro. We were _Voltron_ ; it wasn’t like we didn’t agree with you and acted with you the moment we realized what was happening. It was impulsive, but the moment you made the choice, we all acted on it as you commanded us to break apart and for Keith to get Ulaz.” They walked over and moved his bowl aside to sit sideways across his lap and lean their head against his shoulder, holding the bowl so that Shiro could still eat. “She’s giving me a headache, and I _hate_ that I can’t do anything about her hatred, and it’s . . . it’s _wrong_ to hate an entire race because of the actions of one person.”

“Mm . . . One person and a _lot_ of people willing to follow him and continue to perpetuate violence and oppression,” Shiro murmured. “It just takes a strong enough personality to sway a population. We’ve seen it too many times on Earth, and that was all human-on-human.”

Pidge sighed, sinking closer to Shiro’s warmth. Keith reached over and began playing with ginger hair, unable to keep himself from seeing to his soulmate’s comfort. His raspy voice was soft, “You’re usually more perceptive about yourself and your relationships. Know what I think is going on?”

“Oh, go on. Tell me how I’m feeling.” Their distain was virtually dripping from tired lips.

Ignoring the sass, Keith replied, “I think you’re disappointed that she’s just as flawed as the rest of us, has prejudices that have some pretty crazy baggage attached, and really doesn’t care who hears her because she’s _literally_ just lost her entire planet and everyone she loves. _And_ she just found her soulmates amid all this emotional bullshit so she’s wildly hot and cold trying to figure everything out.”

Pidge stared at Keith. “How. The fuck.”

“Been in similar enough situations.”

Shiro looked back up at Ulaz’s face. “Coran didn’t seem as mad about treating a Galra, though.”

“He’s lost a lot . . . but I think that he’s also old enough to have had life experience temper his responses.” Keith stood and walked closer to study the readouts on the bio-pod-thing’s glass. He rubbed his left thumb over the knuckles of his index finger, right hand scrolling through readouts. Even with how fast they were able to retrieve him, Ulaz had faced enough exposure to truly harm even the healthiest of Galra. Which the readout said he wasn’t that spritely to begin with, probably due to malnutrition and spending time alone on a listening station. “I’d like to learn more about them.”

“Why?” Lance asked, Hunk behind him as they also gathered in the medical room, unable to keep away. “Not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, but . . . why learn more about them? Allura says that they’re essentially an empire of terrorists.”

Hunk shrugged. “They can’t _all_ be terrorists. I bet you anything that this one is probably called a terrorist by his own people, though.” He walked up to wrap arms around Keith, lending his heat and his body as support to Keith’s stance. The bigger teen knew that Keith was processing more than just this rescue. “Is this the alien thing, Keith? You’ve always loved the idea of us not being alone in the universe.”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just . . . I’m driven to _learn_. Allura and Coran are so closed-mouthed about the Galra that it’s impossible to get more than basic information. Hell, they’re so forthright about Altean things that it takes some of the joy out of learning.”

“You? Joy for learning?” Lance teased.

“Yeah, because _someone_ had to actually make records for _you_ to stretch for,” Keith finally snapped back.

“Guys!” Shiro barked. “Knock it off. You’re done. We’re all tired, we haven’t slept in almost a full day, and we’re confused, we’re hurt, and we really just want to find answers.”

“And Allura’s mad,” Pidge whispered.

“That too,” Hunk agreed. “That’s gonna be a tough one.”

Silence fell. Lance sighed. “I’m sorry, Keith. Allura’s been needling me because I’m not taking her side, despite how much I know she’s hurting.”

“I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. She’s closer with you and Pidge, so she’s probably going to lash out at each of you a little more because she’s comfortable with you. Shiro, Hunk, and I get the cold shoulder.”

“Experience?” Pidge asked.

Snorting, Keith leaned back against Hunk a little more solidly. “Ask Shiro how much of a little shit I was when he was taming me.”

The defeated groan was all it took for the other three to start laughing.

Coran turned away from the door, a smile on his face.

He wasn’t fast enough to escape Lance’s eye, who welcomed him in, pulling over a stool. “You’re, like, a walking encyclopedia and we have a sick Galra on our hands for a while; can you tell us about his people? Even basic biology.”

Coran smiled, pulled over his own stool, and settled in. “I know that Princess Allura has been less-than-helpful on this part of your education. I struggle with my own bias at times, but as Ulaz here did attempt to sacrifice himself for your survival, I believe his motives.” He took his time to gather his thoughts, pulled up a holographic display and then began presenting a lecture he had prepared many, many long years ago.

~*~

Ulaz tumbled out of the pod and into several waiting arms. Blind with residual pain, he wheezed as he was carefully settled onto a bed, hands keeping him upright despite his groan and desire to lie down. A cool cloth, unexpected, welcome, and _exactly_ what he needed, wiped his face down while a second was placed along the back of his neck.

He froze. Galra first aid?

“Easy, Ulaz.”

“Shiro?”

“Yep. I remembered this trick and we were ready in case you needed it.”

“Who else is here?” He still couldn’t see, couldn’t blink his way free of the pain, though it was slowly starting to come under his control again.

A hand squeezed his shoulder, large and firm. “Hunk.”

The hand on the back of his neck was smaller, and the voice was slightly higher. “Keith. Lance and Pidge are working with Coran on something. Allura is across the room.”

“Thank you.” He sighed. “I’d like to lie down.”

“Not until your vision returns, you know this,” Shiro replied with a soft chuckle. “I actually remember hearing you bitch out other recovering Galra about this very thing. Don’t remember much else, which I’m honestly pretty happy about, because from how some folks have responded to me . . . I was a monster.”

Smiling, Ulaz replied, “A monster is someone who fights for the joy of hurting another. You fought because you wanted to survive. The two are not the same, Shiro. I’m sorry that your memory has suffered from your time while captured. That is not a phenomenon familiar to my people, and I’m curious about it, if you or one of your cohort would explain it to me.”

“Unlikely. I will not allow them to give you a weapon to use against us.” Allura glared from her point on the other side of the room. “Once he is stable, he will go into the brig.”

“Once he is _stable_ ,” Shiro growled, and Ulaz was glad not to be on the other side of that glare, “he will be watched personally by someone at all times. _As. We. Agreed._ I will not allow someone who has not done any of us any personal harm to be imprisoned on this ship. Furthermore, he saved our lives. Twice, if you want to get technical about it.”

“Out of the question! This is _my_ ship, I will determine who will roam its halls!”

“Then you may have to start looking for some new Paladins,” Keith hissed, voice low. Unable to see what the young man looked like, Ulaz was shocked at the timbre of his voice. It was similar enough to the raspy tones of the Galra that he had forgotten it was a human beside him. “I love Red, you know she and I have a close bond, but I will _not_ let you imprison an innocent.”

“He’s _Galra_!”

“Clearly, I am Galra,” Ulaz agreed. “But I am neither an imperialist nor a race purist. I am a medic, and after my vows as a medic, I am vowed to the Blade of Marmora.” He blinked as his vision abruptly cleared and groaned as the corresponding body aches lessened. He’d be just this side of hibernation as he slept off his injuries. 

The princess was a formidable creature, and he could respect her fury. Drawing in a breath, he inclined his head. “Your Highness, I understand that I am here only by the will of the paladins. That much is clear from your demeanor. I apologize, Shiro, for upsetting the harmony of your cohort.”

“Eh, something was bound to happen sooner or later,” Hunk replied with a shrug. “We’re mortals, and mortals are flawed. It’s also less of Shiro being the cohort leader, and more of just him being Voltron’s leader. We’re equals in our personal relationships.”

“Wise and true, and I respect the compartmentalization of your relationships.” Ulaz’s gaze never left the Altean’s. “I vow upon the life I saved, upon Shiro’s very existence, that I have no orders to fulfill that would cause harm towards any upon this ship. The most that I have done and will continue to hope for is for Voltron to make an alliance with the Blades.”

Allura didn’t move, didn’t change her expression, and certainly didn’t look like she wanted to believe him. So Ulaz shrugged, sighed, and said, “I’d like to pass out now, Shiro. I’m anticipating that this will take at least two days, possibly three, to recover from.”

“So, that trance-hibernation thing?” Hunk asked, helping Ulaz lay back while Shiro grabbed a few blankets and pillows to nest in. “Do you want anyone specific to keep watch?”

“No preference, Paladin, but I thank you. I will be honored by those who wish to hold space for me until I have awoken.”

~*~

Ulaz was currently under the guardianship of one Coran of Altea. And he was _loving_ this. Altea had been destroyed long before his birth, and all knowledge of it was kept strictly confidential. Rumor about Altea ran fantastical, but . . . nothing could compare to the stories that Coran was filling the air with.

Leg hooked around the stool’s footrest as he leaned against a bulkhead, Ulaz soaked in the many various tales of a peaceful Altea and Daibazaal. His ears were trained on the older Altean while his eyes followed the red paladin.

Keith moved like a young Galra on the cusp of his first true growth spurt. Despite his gangly, half-grown adolescent appearance, he showed the beginnings of a truly powerful hand-to-hand warrior. His bayard was knocked from his hand and he didn’t hesitate to draw the knife at the small of his back to block and parry while he made his way around to the weapon granted to him by virtue of his ability to pilot the red lion. The acrobatics he spun through to assist covering one of the other paladins was close to perfect . . . but until he hit his full growth, he would remain that _little_ bit clumsy.

Not even waiting for Coran to pause for breath for the next tale, Ulaz asked softly, “Does the boy know he’s part Galra?”

And Coran was honest. “No. And only you and I know this fact, Ulaz. The only reason I know why is because of medical scans I had done in order to program the healing pods.”

Grunting, the medic sighed. He touched his forehead in a gesture stating that the knowledge would stay within him, never without him. After explaining this relatively new cultural tic to Coran, he asked, “Why do you not hate me and your Princess does?”

It took several long moments, but the royal adviser finally replied, “I have had many years to come to terms with my losses. I did not enter cryosleep at the same time as Allura, so I . . . I did what I could to process my pain. I didn’t know when we would be awoken again; I didn’t want my rash, impatient temper to get the better of me when I knew that Allura would need me as a stabilizing factor in her life after . . . after Altea fell.”

Ulaz nodded, understanding. “How long did you wait before you slept?”

“It took three long years. Three very painful years. I cannot hate those who have done their best to try to stop Zarkon, as I have seen many of your people die attempting to do so.” Coran watched the paladins carefully, then incrementally upped the difficulty level just enough to challenge them without overwhelming them. Allura wanted results _fast_ with these teens, but Coran had been training fighters for longer than his charge had been alive. You can’t force-grow combat abilities.

“May I ask another question about Keith?”

“You may, but I may not answer if I feel it may impose upon his privacy.”

“What percentage Galra is the boy?”

Coran turned away from the training room, making eye contact, judging the Galra before him. After taking the time to consider this information from several angles, the Altean nodded once. As a medic who may one day need to know exactly how to knit their hothead together, Coran knew that it may one day save Keith’s life. “Exactly fifty percent.”

“Quiznak. He’s going to learn real soon about his heritage if he’s about as old as I think he is.”

“I don’t know how to explain this to him.”

“Neither do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** There will be time skips between the chapters as I hustle through a season or two. There’s a lot that I want to hit on and a lot that I want to focus on, but there’s also a lot of stuff that happens in canon that will have nothing to do with my AU. If I don’t mention a change in how something turned out, consider that it happened almost exactly as planned. I can promise you all that this will **not** be Season 8 compliant, though I am considering some of the various plot points they employed from what I’ve read of summaries and reviews. We’ll see._
> 
> _Thankfully, this hasn’t come up yet, but for those of you who haven’t read anything else I’ve written, here’s warning: my main focus for conflict is person-vs-person and person-vs-self. I don’t write action or smut very well, and person-vs-environment doesn’t always go well, either. Sensuality may make an appearance, though._


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Character has an anxiety attack in the opening of this chapter, but it’s also pretty canon that this happened. I tried to write this as close to the episode as I could, but within my AU’s laws._
> 
> _Here! Have a bonus chapter this week!_

Shiro had regrets.

Why?

Because the most terrifying part of trying to strengthen his bond with his lion was that _he wasn’t in control_.

Anxiety ripped through his abdomen and Shiro almost couldn’t think through his terror as Black launched herself out of the Castle of Lions. All he could do was scream, trying to get her to listen to him, to control her headlong, shrieking drive to _leave go somewhere_. Somewhere in his terror, and he didn’t know when, Shiro went from demanding to pleading, tears tracing his cheeks unnoticed. 

And that was when Black slowed down. She had been carefully monitoring her paladin, pushing him to an edge to start thinking about conversations rather than orders. Then, with a low rumble that shook Shiro to his bones and settled him back within his skin, she opened their link and began showing him how she _became_.

And then she let him fight for her, to prove himself.

And he _understood the lesson_.

Revealing the hangar, the Black Lion felt the connection between herself and this young human settle again, this time stronger, a braided cord rather than a handful of strands. It would still need work, but it would at least give them the chance to continue building their connection before Zarkon could attempt to interrupt it again. Shiro sat back in his seat, eyes unfocused and hands loose around the controls. She could feel the human processing all that he had just experienced.

“Was Zarkon real?”

Finding their connection strong enough now, the Black Lion revealed herself, pacing around Shiro’s right side, sitting and turning to nod at him once. She protected his weakness, his losses.

His eyes widened comically for a moment before he turned, slowly reaching his left hand out to touch fingertips to silken fur. “ _You’re_ real.”

She nodded again. The innate quintessence in the humans was unlike anything that the Alteans could have possibly evolved into. It was integral to their existence, evident down to their base atoms. Humans were infused with the substance, but it was so subconsciously controlled that it was incompatible with how Alteans had learned to interact with it. Flashing this knowledge to Shiro, along with the caution to only reveal it when necessary, the lion bumped her head against her pilot’s hand, insisting upon more ear-scratches. Zarkon could once, briefly, connect with her like this, long before he fell. She missed this contact.

“Then I’ll make sure to make more time to do this, especially after missions. And I think that the other pilots should at least try to see their own lions like this.”

Golden eyes snapped open, and the lion blinked at her pilot. She hadn’t expected him to have caught onto her thoughts so easily. Rumbling with an almost-purr, the big cat moved closer, settling between his legs and resting her head upon his thigh with a sigh.

Slowly, they continued working on their bond, on communicating.

~*~

When Shiro walked in, Keith looked up from where he sat on his bed. He had been staring down at his knife, not been expecting Shiro to be done with Black so soon. Lance was still getting the damn cow settled down with Pidge and Allura, while Hunk sat down with Coran and Ulaz to talk about food options, now that they had restocked several fresh varieties of produce and seeds to grow. It would be good to have a fresh supply of milk, too. Especially for Pidge, who would need more calcium as they kept growing.

Blinking at the symbol on the knife, Shiro closed the door behind him quickly. “How did you get Ulaz’s knife without him seeing you?”

“I didn’t. This . . . is my knife.” Keith looked back down at the blade in his hands, the symbol he had kept covered for so long. “This belonged to my _mother_ , Shiro. Dad had hid it in the house, probably to wait until I was older to give it to me.”

“I remember when you found it.”

The younger man looked ready to cry. “I . . . I don’t know what I am, Shiro. This is literally an alien’s knife. And Mom is dead so I don’t even know—”

“You’re _mine_.”

Purple eyes snapped up to meet steely grey ones. Shiro took the knife from his lover’s hands, putting it on the sidetable. His left hand tilted Keith’s chin up, thumb and forefinger keeping that sharp chin from turning away. “Anything outside of the fact that you’re mine is irrelevant to me.”

“Shiro—”

“You never gave up when I was captured. You kept writing to me. You kept me from losing hope. You _found our soulmates_ , and they helped so much when they could. You, Keith, kept me _sane_.” Shiro’s voice caught, and he leaned closer to hiss in Keith’s face, “I can’t remember when they took my arm, but you and our mates remember. I just know it was really, _really_ bad. But you kept writing to me, even when I couldn’t write back at first. When I was lost, you kept showing me the path home.”

Capturing Keith’s mouth in a press of lips that was more of a claim than a show of affection, Shiro felt those strong fingers dig into his hips and hold tight. Pulling back, he continued. “What do you really fear?”

“That I’m Galra,” Keith whispered. “And that Allura will repudiate me.”

“Second thing first, remember how sick she looked when we told her about Adam. Allura won’t repudiate you; the very concept goes against the core tenets of her culture.” Combing his right hand through thick locks of hair, Shiro whispered, “And if you are part alien, well . . . I’m clearly not against that if that’s a thing. I mean, the idea can be pretty hot to think about.”

Keith blushed. “Doesn’t mean I’m not still weird down there.”

“We’ve been over this—”

“I mean, it would explain some things.”

“I swear to God, Keith, we’re not turning this into another talk about your dick. Keep it serious.”

“I am!” Keith burst into action, pacing. “You know I don’t go into this because you don’t give me any reason to doubt the kind of equipment I have! But you’re not _everyone_ who will come in contact with me. Shiro, I’m _terrified_ of what Lance or Hunk will think is wrong with _down there_.”

Taking a seat on Keith’s bed, Shiro watched Keith pace for a moment before reaching his hands out and brushing them along the young man until he paused. “There’s _nothing_ wrong with you.”

“Did you miss the part where it’s not human-normal? I didn’t miss middle-school health class.”

“I’m pretty well-acquainted, thank you. And I’m not sure what you mean by human-normal, since there’s a lot of variety even among our race.”

“Disappearing dicks, Shiro? Really?” Keith loved watching Shiro’s blush, no matter the topic. “Or is it that you just like playing whack-a-mole or hide-the-pickle?”

“Oh my God, why are you like this?” Shiro was giggling so hard that he could hardly breathe. Curling Keith closer, he pressed his face against abs that were still getting progressively more developed. He felt Keith’s shiver of delight, then pulled back slightly. “Keith. Seriously, babe, if you are, or if your mom was part Galra or more Galra or less or whatever, that will _never_ matter to me. What matters to me is that _you’re here_. You _stayed_ all those years ago for us.” He shifted his hands to take Keith’s and squeezed them carefully. “And you’re mine. That’s what matters to me.”

“But Hunk and Lance—”

“They’ll probably love what you have just as much as I do.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“Hunk’s pansexual. Pretty sure he and Shay got handsy and I know that he goes off to have private conversations with her in his bunk.”

“Okay, but—”

“Lance is into anything that moves, but mostly us.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Oh, am I not?” Shiro teased, thumbs tracing along the back of Keith’s hands. “Are you not enjoying the thought of the two of you scrambling to be on top, trying to win the right to fuck your partner senseless while hurling insults and teasing each other?”

Keith’s breath escaped him in a soft whine, hands shaking slightly.

“Oh, you _do_ like that.” Shiro tugged him closer. “Know what I think you’d like _better_ than that?”

“Wh-what?”

The black paladin’s voice dropped in both volume and pitch. “You’d love it if Hunk and I watched you two. Maybe even Allura.”

Keith pounced, knocking Shiro on his back to kiss him firmly, affirming his own claim over the older man. They had gotten shirts off and were mid-kiss when the door opened again. Keith’s hand froze on Shiro’s pec and he turned to stare in terror.

Ulaz and Hunk blinked, and Hunk reached over to close the door. “Hey, so you may want to lock that next time. I’ll take another shift with Ulaz; you two enjoy yourselves.”

“Nooooo,” Keith moaned, mood lost. “Dammit fucking _hell_ it’s been _two weeks_ , and fuuuucking helllll—”

“God damn it,” Shiro groaned. “Hunk, give us a couple minutes. Mood’s gone for both of us, I think.”

Hunk heard a strange noise to his right, and he looked up to see Ulaz holding a hand over his mouth, clearly grinning and trying not to laugh too hard at the clear noises of grumpy disappointment emanating from the other side of the door. “What’s so funny?”

“He behaves very similarly to a creature that had been native to Daibazaal. From what you’ve told me of earth animals, the resemblance to your domesticated felines—”

“Oh my god, Shiro, Ulaz is totally onto the fact that Keith is a cat!”

Shiro’s voice burst into snickers and Keith opened the door in his t-shirt, Shiro stuck with his arms halfway into his shirt and giggling too hard to fix his clothing. “I swear to God, Hunk.”

Leaning in to kiss Keith’s nose, Hunk smiled and rubbed the tips of their noses together. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I can. But to be fair, you could have locked the door.”

Keith blinked, sighed, and turned to help Shiro get himself situated before quickly wrapping the hilt of his knife before sheathing it. “Blame Shiro. He was the last one through it. I was up next with Ulaz, right?”

“Yep.”

“Sure.” He smiled and patted Hunk’s shoulder, then wrapped his hand around the back of the tan, strong neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss before settling back on his heels, blushing, and walking off in a hurry.

Ulaz blinked, then shrugged and followed after, lanky limbs easily able to catch up. Hunk’s breath left him with a soft groan, and Shiro grunted uncomfortably, also blushing and looking away. “Uh.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, we’re all so fucked when I’m legal, aren’t we.”

“Oh, yeah. Keith . . . yeah.”

“Yeah.”

~*~

Keith and Ulaz ended up on the training deck for some unarmed sparring. They laughed through the exercises, pausing every so often to take a breather and water break. Keith let Ulaz choose the breaks, having learned that the Galra were ambush predators, very unlike the persistence predators that humans evolved into. Before long, both knew that they had gained an audience of the Princess, up in the control booth. With a long look, both fighters elected to ignore her to see what she’d do.

When they returned to sparring, Ulaz showed Keith how to break Galran wrestling holds. One elbow jab to his ribs made him cough in shock and back up a few steps, one hand up. “That’s good aim for the next time you’re held like that.”

“Water break?” Keith asked, laughing and helping Ulaz back over to the bench. They both paused, having been too involved in their fun to realize that Allura had entered the room. She stood with water held in each hand.

Keith knew the rest of their pride were watching or listening around the door. “Princess?”

“I’m sorry for—”

“Forgiven,” Ulaz interrupted, taking a water pouch and sucking half of it down eagerly, clearly done with today’s exercise. He smiled at the Princess winningly, impishly glad that he had been able to forestall unnecessary words.

“I haven’t even said _why_!”

“You’ve been composing the perfect apology for your own grief; that’s punishment enough,” Ulaz replied. “Besides. You just gave me a weapon.”

“Ulaz, no!” Keith darted out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough. Ulaz half-scruffed the young man and dumped the rest of the _freezing cold water_ down his unfurred back, then smushed the container on top of dark hair and _ran_.

After a shocked moment of complete incomprehension, Allura caught on and bit only a tip off of the next water pouch, turning it into an impromptu squirt-gun and chased after the laughing Galra. “Keith! I’ll avenge you!”

Within five minutes, a massive water-fight was taking place in the training room. Coran watched from the control room, grinning broadly before he pulled out the big guns. Pressing a button, he soaked all participants before calling into the microphone, “All right, children, that’s enough for the day! Off to the showers with every one of you!”

A chorus of grumbles met his ears, and Coran was absolutely delighted by it.

He grinned broadly and sent another shower of water down upon the paladins, the princess, and the rebel.

~*~

Late that night, Allura paused again before entering the communal room. Pidge and Lance lay half on each other as they played a video game, bitching the entire time in the simple companionship that Allura had keenly missed in the last week. Shiro, Hunk, Keith, and Ulaz were in various states of wakefulness, with Hunk the most out and snoring, Keith half-asleep while curled into his side, and Shiro and Ulaz playing a strategy game on the floor beside the sunken nest area. Nobody looked up, but Shiro held out his left arm to Allura without looking.

Tears blurred her vision, and she slowly walked to the Black Paladin’s side. He didn’t let her stay there very long, tucking her in across his lap while continuing to play. After a long while, she began to feel the shift, the soft settling of harmony returning.

Shiro kissed her forehead, smiling. “We understand pain pretty well, Allura. Don’t hide from us this long again, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed a line down her nose, pecked her lips, and then curled her closer before making one final move. “Pretty sure I just won.”

Ulaz huffed in dismay. “You’d like my Leader; he’s a damn good strategist. I’m wasted on the long game.”

“I have a suggestion for a long game,” Lance said, eyes still glued to where he was defending madly against a volatile assault by Pidge’s toon. “Sleep. And a sleep-in.”

Allura slid out of Shiro’s lap, sharing another kiss and soft smile with him before sitting behind Lance and Pidge. “I’m very sorry. I lashed out, and it wasn’t fair.”

“We forgive you,” they chorused, reaching out to swat at each other’s legs and groaning at the result of letting go of their game controllers. They gave up shortly after, each taking one of Allura’s sides to snuggle up with her. Lance’s back was to Hunk’s free side in the nest, then Allura and Pidge in a setup that was starting to become very familiar to everyone. Keith was between Hunk and Shiro, before he switched and shoved Shiro close to Hunk’s side and sat up. “Ulaz? Coming in?”

“I do not wish to—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you just get into the nest and pass the fuck out?” Pidge groaned. “Galra need this kind of sleep every once in a while, yeah?”

“The . . . healthy ones, yes.”

“And when’s the last time you did?”

“Too long ago.”

“See?” Pidge snuggled back into Allura’s firm hold. “Shut up and cuddlepuddle, you big faker. You Galra aren’t designed to be loners, no matter how badass you want to be.”

Keith and Shiro rearranged themselves in such a way that Ulaz was firmly sandwiched between them. None commented when they awoke the next morning that Ulaz and Allura were holding arms across Hunk’s torso, but it was clear that peace was restored, however temporarily.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author's Note:** So this was a very good week for writing. Here's a second bonus chapter. I'm about halfway through the next chapter right as I post this one._

The first time that Ulaz saw a soulmate scar happen, he hadn’t known what to make of it. He had been with Pidge, helping stabilize something when they hissed and pulled their shirt off to twist and look at the back of their arm. There was a moment while they assessed whatever had happened. “Well, fuck.”

“What is it? How did you hurt yourself?”

“No, someone else got nicked, probably by Keith and he’s probably panicking about it. Do your people have soulmate scars?” They turned to show the fresh pink line that ran along the back of their left arm.

Ulaz stared in shock. “No. We don’t. Our pupils change color when we see our soulmate for the first time.”

“See, _that’s_ the kind of shit that I _wish_ would happen. One person gets hurt or gets a scar, and the other person shows the marks, too. C’mon, we’ll need to see who it was that was injured and we can go over this more in detail.”

It took about three hours, but when he finally understood more about the humans, this cohort specifically, he was stunned that they were as well-adjusted as they were. These children had been through more pain than many of Ulaz’s peers. Even two days later, as they waited outside the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters, he was unable to process how these humans, seemingly frail in comparison to Galran and Altean physiological standards, could keep up.

Ulaz wasn’t surprised in the _least_ as the events unfolded before him. Keith wanted to know more about himself, about why he had the blade. He craved _knowledge_. The Galran medic glanced to Shiro, who was less than pleased but supported his soulmate. And so Ulaz was told to remain with both Shiro and Kolivan, guards at the observation room doors. Keith’s progress made Kolivan remain very still. Finally, he opened a private channel to Ulaz, who had masked his face while they flew in the Red Lion to the base. “What is he, Ulaz. I know that you know.”

Ulaz smirked. It must _irritate_ Kolivan to not have intel. So he simply responded with, “He says that he’s human.” This would be the _one time_ that he would have more information than his Leader. He’d pay dearly for this subterfuge.

“Hm. They are terrifying creatures. His stamina is unbelievable for his size; are all humans similar to him?”

“I know that the Champion beside us is, but there seems to be varying abilities according to factors I have not had enough time to study. However, I am _certain_ that they are lethal in packs. All of Voltron’s pilots are human, Leader, and they are quite literally a force of nature. It would take considerable strategy or overwhelming numbers were Zarkon to attempt an invasion.”

“Hm.”

Then Keith faltered as a new tactic out of pattern startled him. And his right shoulder was laid bare almost to the bone. Shiro grunted but didn’t otherwise move. Ulaz swallowed in shock.

Oh, this was going to be a shit-show, as the humans said.

~*~

Keith grabbed Ulaz’s arm with his left hand the moment that he was told to go and change back into his paladin armor. “You and Shiro. I’m going to need help bandaging that wound.”

Kolivan followed, inviting himself and standing guard at the door. Ironically, that was something that new Blades were allowed to do: choose who helped them out of the suit after their Trial while the Leader protected them. At this point, it was symbolic. Not all Galra were happy with their new members in the past.

Shiro glared once at the masked Leader but didn’t say anything as he began peeling the suit away from Keith’s pale, blood-stained skin. Ulaz had grabbed a medkit and was standing ready to assist. “You did very well on your trials; I emerged is considerably poorer shape.”

Keith’s voice was low, earnest. “You knew I was at least Galra in part.”

Hands pausing their preparations, Ulaz removed his helmet and blinked once at the pilot. “I had my suspicions for some time, but . . . that was neither here nor there. You said that you identified as human, and I had only suspicions and no hard proof of your genetics. I did not wish to add further turmoil to what you were processing with the Princess’ own prejudice towards myself causing disarray within the cohort.”

“She’s going to hate me and think that I kept this from her.”

“She will be wrong to do so,” Kolivan offered quietly. “You have no choice in who your parents are or what genetics you carry. Many of my best Blades hail from at least two species.”

Keith looked up, frowned, and looked down again. “It’d’ve been easier to know about this if my mom hadn’t fucking up and died. Ow! _Fuck_ , Laz!”

Ulaz frowned as he continued cleaning the wound. “I’m not apologizing.”

“Ass.”

“Infant.”

“Kids, knock it off,” Shiro growled, stressed and still feeling Keith’s residual pain. “Ulaz, we have to get him back into his flight suit so he can bring us back to the castleship.”

The Marmoran’s hands stilled. “I will not be joining you. My orders are now to remain on base to treat my fellow Blades when they return from missions.”

Shiro looked to Kolivan, then nodded. “I understand. I speak for all of Voltron’s pilots when I thank you for all that you’ve done for us. You have been invaluable.”

“I leave Keith and the rest of your cohort in a vulnerable place, though,” Ulaz murmured, hands stilling. “There is much about your biology that you must know, kitling. Leader, I formally request to be stationed with the Paladins of Voltron to assist their team and as a representative of the Blades.”

Kolivan blinked once, slowly, and Ulaz nodded, taking the cue that his request would be given the consideration it deserved. He turned the possible scenarios over in his head while Ulaz and Shiro helped Keith back into his flight suit. The young creature had turned his back to them while bare and struggling into his foundational garments. That was troubling to see in some ways but reassuring in others. The red paladin trusted the black paladin to be able to move around him quickly enough to defend him, but he was shy or hiding his genitalia. Additionally, the markings along his flesh were strange and had no discernable pattern. A constellation of slightly-darker markings along his back was the most striking, but they dotted long lines that traveled across ribs, there was a circle around his right bicep, and the marks on his face, fainter than those on his body, looked familiar . . . And Ulaz looked . . . guilty? He’d puzzle that out later. “I will continue to consider it; you will return to the castleship with us at the very least.”

When they emerged, Antok joined them on the walk back to the red lion. All paused and watched as Keith reached a hand up as the lion itself bent down to inspect him. His mouth moved, but his voice was too soft to pick up on anything more than the tone of admiration and love. Turning, Keith gestured them closer, Shiro first as Keith waited in red’s mouth for the three Galra to follow Shiro’s lead.

And the way that the cub piloted was phenomenal. He had a natural talent and finesse for understanding the way that his ship could move, and the landing was flawless.

Allura stood with a stone face to greet them, eyes flashing and cheeks flushed with anger. As she opened her mouth, Keith spoke before she could. “I didn’t move fast enough. Don’t hold it against them; they personally didn’t have anything to do with my injury.”

“I don’t know who _they_ are.”

“You know me,” Ulaz replied, mask dematerializing and hood falling back onto his shoulders. “I treated the wound as best as possible, but he will need additional time spent healing. I must speak with Coran to coordinate further care.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, softly, almost . . . _hurt_ that he would go.

Ulaz blinked at her, then sighed and shrugged. “We all will have our orders to follow, Princess. I defer to my Leader’s greater understanding of strategy.”

Hunk and Lance ran in, Pidge right behind them in one of Lance’s hoodies. Lance hadn’t had time to put his shirt back on, so it was shoved halfway into a back pocket as he carried medical supplies. Hunk had carried a stool in and set it down. “Keith, park yourself.”

Gratefully, the red paladin headed over to the duo while Pidge moved closer to Allura and Shiro. Kolivan _stared_. And he let his mask down to stare with his own eyes. Then blinked. Then stared. The visible scar on his back matched the shadow of a scar on Keith’s own back. He bore the echo of the injury that was slowly being patched up.

“Quiznak,” Antok breathed, catching on faster then his Leader.

The mark on Keith’s shoulder showed upon tan skin, lines matching exactly.

“Ulaz, you will explain why you withheld that the cub—” Kolivan saw the smooth discoloration across Keith’s nose that matched four others . . . The original scar, smooth but still painful-looking, ran across Shiro’s own face. And for once, the Leader of the Blade of Marmora felt _entirely_ out of his depth. “Stars and voids. They’re _all_ soulmates.”

“Yes,” Allura said firmly. “ _We_ are.”

“I mean it! Be easy on those three,” Keith growled through the pain of having more sets of hands help clean and start binding the wound closed with a handheld device. “And they couldn’t just take it easy on me because they thought I was human.”

“Well, that’s silly. You _are_ human.”

Keith felt Lance’s hands still when he didn’t reply. Then Hunk’s. Allura stared incomprehensibly as she tried to figure out exactly what he meant.

Keith was about to find something to say to clarify when Pidge started _laughing_. “This is _perfect_! Oh my God, Keith, we’ve been obsessed with finding aliens for _years_ and we didn’t have to look beyond _you_?! Oh my God, dude, this . . . Oh my God, your mom was _Galra_? What were the Galra doing on Earth? Wait. Wait, So that means that your flight scores were _so out of this world_ (see what I did there?) because _you’re_ only half-human and we, _duh_ , can’t account for the fact that your reflexes are probably better because I’ve _seen_ how Ulaz can move . . . This is so fucking _awesome_. I have _two_ alien pridemates! And I’ve fucking loved one of them since before I knew he was mine! This is _so fucking cool_! Shiro! Shiro! You’ve been fu—”

Shiro wrapped his hand around their mouth with a sigh. “Pidge. Breathe. Keith’s just found out, himself. Don’t be vulgar until we’ve all had some time to absorb this information.”

Keith’s face was half-scrunched up, ready to cry. He whispered, “You love me? Since before you knew?”

Pidge broke away from Shiro and flung themself against Keith, pressing their face against his chest and whispering back, “Yeah.”

Lance’s hands started to slide around Keith, and he curled around the pale man and their little gremlin into an embrace, pressing his left cheek against Keith’s. They didn’t say anything, and Hunk quietly continued working, pausing to kiss dark hair every so often.

Allura didn’t know what to say or do. She just stood there until Kolivan cleared his throat, drew himself up with a deep breath, and knelt before her to pledge his loyalty. Coran entered, and helped finalize some of the medical treatment, then took in more of the awkward stances around the room. “I believe that Hunk prepared what is called ‘hot cocoa’ on Earth . . . perhaps everyone would like a cup while we discuss what happened today? Come on, then. Everyone follow me!”

~*~

Late that night, Keith didn’t even go to the nest. He ached, his heart weeping while his eyes remained hot and dry. His dad had loved an alien . . . his _mom_ had loved a human? Had they been soulmates after all? He couldn’t remember if he saw any soulmate scars on his dad before he died.

He sat on the bridge in his station, knees drawn up and forehead resting upon them. For a long time, nobody found him.

The person who _did_ find him, he wasn’t expecting.

Kolivan sat cross-legged on the floor. “Kit, you should be resting.”

“I can’t sleep. I can’t even _cry_.”

Silent for a few long moments, Kolivan then released a deep breath. “I knew she who once wielded that blade you have awoken.”

Keith’s head snapped up, eyes wide, hopeful. Kolivan couldn’t say much, couldn’t _dare_ say anything sensitive, but he could tell Keith: “I can tell you of who she was before she was lost to us. But truthfully, you need only look in the mirror to find her personality.”

“You . . . you actually knew her.”

“Her nickname was Spitfire when around the base. Antok still checks the vents at certain corners because he once made the poor life decision to make it his goal to piss her off.” Kolivan couldn’t help a smile. “My soulmate is my perfect match, but he is also not as nimble as you are or your mother was.”

“Ulaz said that a Galra’s pupils change when they see their soulmate for the first time,” Keith offered. “I wish that was the same for humans. Did . . . did mom know her soulmate?”

“No, but she was also focused entirely upon her duties as a Blade. We also do not have large cohorts like yours. Trios at most, unless there are more than two eyes.” With a deep sigh, Kolivan whispered, “I must keep Ulaz with me, kit, or I would leave him to help educate you about your Galra genetics and our culture. I feel a responsibility towards you as I was . . . once . . . close with your mother. She was one of my dearest friends before she went missing in action.”

“You don’t think she died,” Keith whispered.

“It is my hope that she only faked her death, as distressing as this may sound to you.”

Taking a long moment to process this. He had, for so long, assumed that he was orphaned after Dad died. And now, speaking with someone who had _known_ his mother, who _hoped_ she was alive and had _reason_ to hope, could he dare also hope to find her? Then, without warning, Keith’s face flushed and he looked away. “Look, Ulaz is a little too . . . medical for me to be okay with when he starts talking about some things. Can . . . I know this is _really_ stepping out of line, Leader, but—”

“But you have some questions as a young man in your father’s culture and an adolescent in your mother’s culture.”

“Yeah.”

Standing, Kolivan indicated that Keith stand as well. “Find us a place where we won’t be bothered for a while. I’d be honored to answer your questions.”

Once safely ensconced in Keith’s room, door locked, Keith blurted, “Okay, what the _fuck_ is up with genitals, because I swear to god, if disappearing dicks is not Galra-normal, I’m gonna fucking _scream_.”

Snorting a laugh, Kolivan nodded and took up a seat on the chair. “It’s normal. It’s a protective measure to keep the organs from being injured too easily. Sit, we’ll start there, and I’ll tell you some of the lesser-known things that you will not be able to find easily through research.”

Keith settled himself down. “Thank you, Kolivan. And . . . Thank you for telling me about Mom.”

“It is my honor to tell you about our Spitfire. She’d expect this of me, anyway.”

She was going to absolutely _murder_ him when she found out that her boy has been inducted into the Blades. Kolivan was a dead Galra walking and he knew this on the deepest level possible. But at least he could try his best to keep the both of them safe this way. Hopefully.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Fair warning, this is the first of three chapters where things will Not Be Okay, but then the angst should lighten up a bit for a while. As usual, there will be a Comfort portion of each chapter, possibly some fun humor, because I refuse to write chapters of pure Hurt. _

Allura screamed, kicking the bag hard enough to detach it from its moorings and flung it across the room. Pouncing after it, she continued to tear it to shreds.

Keith sat in the darkened observation room with Shiro and Kolivan. Coran, never far from his charge, joined them and watched for a long moment as she began to work on the next piece of equipment. After a while, Kolivan sighed. “I’ll handle this.”

“She may injure you,” Coran murmured. “Lance is standing by at the second door in case she needs to be startled out of her rage.”

“Hm. We’ll see. Have Ulaz on hand just in case. And stream our conversation up here for Keith, yes?”

Keith looked guilty. “Kolivan—”

“None of that. You’ll want to know what was said anyway.” Turning and stalking out, the leader of the Blade of Marmora strode purposefully into the training room and stopped short as if startled that someone was already in here. “Princess?”

“Get out!”

Oh. This was going to go well.

“Hm. No.” Continuing to walk further into the room, he walked around a vertical post about a foot in diameter that had several stubby “branches” at various heights. He had seen Pidge use this specifically, and they had told him about human martial arts, then demonstrated against Keith in a sparring match. “I witnessed two paladins work through some of their frustration through sparring; it has been too long since I’ve had a sparring partner who wasn’t Galra. Would you like a go, Princess?”

She flung herself at him with a roar, and he grinned, letting himself be driven back into the open, easily able to defend against sheer fury rather than calculated strikes. “What has you so furious?”

“I hate you all!”

Kolivan waited through two more strikes before asking, “Do you?”

Her anger intensified and the Galra felt the fur begin to prickle like it did whenever he was around someone who could access and utilize quintessence. He may be a little singed before this was all over. The Princess’ eyes began to overflow. “I _can’t_ hate Keith! But I _hate_ all you _quiznaking Galra_!”

Kolivan blinked once, and it cost him. She spun a perfect kick to his side and he went tumbling. Groaning as he hit the wall ass-first, the Blade Leader took a moment to assess his bruises. Rolling nimbly to his feet after determining that nothing was broken, he walked closer to the panting Altean before him. “Do you hate Ulaz?”

“No,” she replied immediately.

“Do you hate _me_?”

Her voice was softer. “No.”

“Are you considering repudiating one of your soulmates because he had no choice in what blood runs through his veins?”

“No,” she wept.

“Do you realize that his Galran mother had to love his human father _incredibly_ in order to simply _conceive_ him, let alone carry to term? Do you know how _long_ she had to wait to trigger a fertility cycle that would be compatible with his father’s species?”

“Yes.”

“Allura, _he didn’t know any of that until last night_. He _doesn’t_ know you can’t hate him because of your quantum bond. _You_ know Galran biology and you _know_ that interbreeding with other species is not a fast process for us.” Holding his hand out, Kolivan waited until she rested one of her own within it. “Ulaz told me of the night that all seven of you nested down together, and he was grateful and honored for the chance to rest protected by some of the greatest pilots and warriors that our universe has to offer. You can’t afford to hide your pain from your soulmates anymore.”

“I . . . How can I even begin to tell him my fears?”

“You could always try asking for some time alone together,” Keith’s voice said from the doorway. “I’m open to that.”

“Keith!” She flung herself at him for an embrace, and he caught her, smiling helplessly before wrapping his arms around her and just letting her sob it out.

Lance smiled, closing the door and walking off to find something else to do now that he wasn’t needed there. He could bother Pidge, but they were doing research to find their family. Hunk was probably still cooking from where he last saw his boyfriend when he responded to Coran’s call to be backup. Shiro was nowhere to be found, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t far away from Keith to act as another bit of backup.

So Lance, as always, was a loose end among his soulmates, one of the outcomes he had always feared could happen. He ended up finding Ulaz in the medical bay, who brought him closer and said, “I have a feeling that the next pieces of information I’m going to be uploading into the databases will be useful to you in the near future.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’m curious too.”

Yelping, Lance turned to see Shiro, who had the good wit to look chagrined that he had snuck up on Lance without being heard or seen. “Hi. Sorry.” Leaning in, he nuzzled behind Lance’s ear.

“You’re not going to keep an eye on Keith?”

“He and Allura need some privacy, but they’ll join us before dinner.”

Ulaz grinned. “ _You’re_ already familiar with the subject material.”

“Huh?”

Lance blinked. Blinked again. Caught Ulaz’s expression, and gasped with joy. “Oh my god, tell me _everything_ about Galra sex!” He grabbed Shiro’s hand and hustled them over. “I’m looking forward to making Keith lose his mind.”

~*~

It took some time, but when Allura had settled enough, she was grateful that Keith had brought her to his own room, rather than suggested that they go to hers or take up the nest. They had ended up laying down together, shoes kicked off and a comfortably heavy blanket tossed over them. Keith had told Allura how he and Shiro had found the materials to make what she found out was called a “weighted blanket,” which helped soothe humans with anxiety. She asked how she could help make the next ones, then swore him to secrecy to help her make ones in each of the lions’ colors for their other soulmates. The mood was intimate, cozy, and neither wanted to let it go. Allura whispered, “I forgot about how much effort it would take for you to have been conceived. I . . . it was easier to hate when I didn’t know so many examples of the good in your mother’s people.”

Keith sighed softly. “I haven’t gotten to that part of my studies. Is infertility a thing?”

“Not in the least! At least, not between Galra couples.” Allura laughed, curling Keith tighter. “But . . . hm. Do you know if you have wholly-Galra genitalia?”

“Possibly? At least the, uh, ‘sperm-delivery’ side. I haven’t been brave enough to really start looking for anything else yet.”

“Perhaps Coran could . . .” Allura froze. “You’ve been scanned by his medical equipment.”

“Yeah?”

“The scanners would have identified your DNA down to a tenth of a portion of any identified and logged species in the castle’s databases.”

Keith’s eyes snapped wider. “Coran _knew_!”

Allura shot out of bed, shoving feet into boots, Keith right on her tail as they hurtled through the castle and the Princess slammed the mess hall door open. “Coran, you _motherfucker_!”

“Bye!” He was off like a shot with Allura and Keith in hot pursuit.

Pidge’s goo fell back into their bowl. “Who taught her that one?”

“Me,” Lance murmured guiltily.

“Wow. Great job.”

Kolivan blinked and looked to Ulaz. This was supposed to be their last meal upon the Castle of Lions before they returned. The medic grinned unrepentantly. “They must have realized that Coran has known that Keith was part-Galra since he had been scanned for medical equipment calibrations.”

The other Paladins dropped their utensils in a clatter and started yelling for Coran as they followed after their teammates.

Ulaz grinned to his Leader, who was trying desperately not to let his own grin crack his face. “See why I want to stay, Kolivan?”

“It is quite a tempting thing, to be witness to a pack of ferocious kits take on the Galra Empire.”

“You know,” Ulaz replied softly, “Lance has been telling me about the roles of familial adults in their culture. You could be seen as an honorary Uncle to Keith, and I believe that he would welcome you as such in his life.”

Kolivan sighed, and he put his spoon down before he fiddled with it. “Ulaz, I tell you this because I willingly gave Keith the wrong impression that _she_ and I were only close friends.”

Antok snorted into his food goo, then kept eating. He loved it whenever Kolivan brought this up to someone who was blissfully ignorant of the relationship between the Leader and their best spy. He didn’t meet Ulaz’s gaze.

“Leader?”

“I’d be seen as an interloper upon Keith’s father’s place in his mother’s life right now. We didn’t have a sibling-like friendship; his mother and I were _lovers_ at one point, Ulaz. And she doesn’t know that her human mate, Keith’s father, has died.”

The younger Galra whispered, “You said ‘doesn’t,’ in the present tense. You mean that _she is_ —”

“Yes.”

Antok was still laughing, having progressed to hissing wheezes.

Ulaz blinked once, pale skin turning whiter. “Oh, _voids_ , you are one dead idiot, Koli.”

~*~

With a sigh, Keith rolled over to find that it was only himself and Lance remaining in the nest. The rustling of clothing as everyone else got ready for their day ahead. Shiro hung over the edge of the nest to brush his hand across both foreheads. “Take a lazy morning; you two deserve it.”

Lance smiled and curled closer to Keith, who grumbled for show and wrapped arms around his tanned soulmate as the others shuffled out of the room for additional training. “I bribed Shiro to let us get some _alone time_.”

“Oh my God,” Keith laughed, shoving his hand into Lance’s face to shove him away. “You’re _impossible_! What did you do to get him to agree?”

“Hunk has a fantasy that he wants to happen for his birthday in a couple weeks, and I told Shiro about it.”

Blinking, the dark-haired paladin made an impressed expression. “That would be something he’d certainly be thankful for.”

“Know what _I’m_ thankful for?” Lance moved closer, pressing himself against Keith from knees to nipples and nosing at the sharp jaw.

Smiling through his blush, Keith murmured, “Enlighten me.”

Lance grinned, and slid his thumb along Keith’s hipbone, digging in _just enough_ to make sure that the pressure was firmer than how Shiro said he had done this before. Ulaz had been hilarious while educating the paladins on how Galra genitals worked and offered his own anecdotal experience for giggles.

Keith’s eyes rolled up and he wheezed softly. “Oh.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, oh my god, Shiro is afraid to be rough with me, Lance.”

“Ulaz said Galra also like it a little more . . . fierce . . . than some other races. Think that might have something to do with it?” Leaning in, Lance began to nibble along the side of Keith’s neck.

“Yeah?” Keith’s mind was slowly starting to go into that place where pleasure overwrote every impulse and his thoughts would _finally_ still themselves. “And he saw me in a very vulnerable place when we met. I don’t think that he can see beyond the hurt little kid sometimes; I wish he would talk to the adult who would very much love some rough sex.”

Lance leaned in and bit Keith’s shoulder hard, not hard enough to mark, but enough to make sure Keith was paying attention. “Everyone will know what we’re doing when I get going, you know.”

And that’s when he realized that he shouldn’t play with fire because Keith’s grin promised hell.

It didn’t help that he returned the grin watt-for-watt.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Just like with many other disorders, the one that is mentioned in this chapter may not present the same way across different individuals’ experiences. Many thanks to Goji for his help with this chapter. _

Keith sat in the cockpit of the Black Lion and wept.

He knew that he had been inconsolable for days now but just didn’t know what could break the cycle. Zarkon had done _something_ to Shiro. But Shiro wasn’t dead. Nobody had a death-mark. Allura could feel his quintessence still present and active in their bonds.

And now the Black Lion had chosen him, despite his pleas. And he’d had to fly her and his mind felt stuck on the same obsessive thought of _bring Shiro home again_.

“Why me? _Why me?!_ ” he wailed, limbs untucking and going limp with the force of his exhaustion. “I’m _nothing_ like Shiro! He’s _your pilot_ , and I’m . . . I’m his right hand. I’m not him.”

They had run on several missions, with three people each getting used to a new lion, and Keith had found that his need for perfect maneuvers was overwhelming his ability to lead. It wasn’t that he hadn’t taken leadership courses or had been mentored by an insanely good leader, but it was why he preferred to not lead. He was distracted and often found himself on sensory overload while trying to track and direct four other pilots. And then there was the rage that would flare up out of nowhere, sometimes costing them the mission. He knew he had killed several Galra, knew that there was the burning _need_ to find and question someone high-ranking enough to _know things_.

But he was failing his soulmates again as his own soul writhed in agony.

A warm nose pressed into his hand, startling him into looking down. A black lion stared up at him before resting her chin upon his knee, closing her eyes and purring when Keith’s hands rested upon her ruff. He cried harder, sliding onto the floor of the cockpit and curling up under the lion’s chin, left arm curling his head against the side of her neck.

Another nose pressed against him, and his Red shoved her way across his lap, demanding hugs from his right arm. He curled them close, unable to drag himself out from the pain.

A third nose. Fourth. _Fifth._

And then human hands reached around the furry heads, carefully brushing through his hair. “I know, Keith. I don’t know why he isn’t responding to our messages, either. Maybe he can’t.”

“Pidge,” he whispered, voice breaking.

The littlest Paladin slid around, careful not to dislodge any of the lions, one hand sliding around Green’s head to forehead-boop the scrappy little creature before taking Black’s pilot chair and letting Keith lean back against their legs. “I know. Lance and Hunk are coming, too.”

Taking a long moment to try to pull himself together, he whispered, “Allura, too? She’s our soulmate . . . she’s a paladin, now, too.”

“She wanted to give you space if you wanted it.”

“I think we need her close, too.”

Black licked a stripe across Keith’s forehead with a low growl. He reached back up to cup her cheek, eyes streaming. “Okay. _I_ need her, too.”

Within moments, the cockpit was crowded. Red smoothly moved over to curl around a shocked Lance, who had knelt to embrace Keith. “Oh.”

“You’ve never seen them before, either?” Pidge whispered, hands still carding through Keith’s hair, and he rested his head right above their knee. Black took over his lap, draping herself over him and curling one paw around his hips to keep him still.

Shaking his head, Lance moved closer to rest his left shoulder against Keith’s right shoulder. In this process, he found that Red adored the snuggles and needed more of them, her desires clear in his mind. “They’re beautiful.”

All the cats preened and Allura let out a surprised laugh at the cockpit door before entering with Hunk, who was startled at how fast Yellow had run over to greet her paladin with a headbutt and tackle. “Oh my god, you’re such a pretty kitty! Look at you, my good girl!”

Green had smushed herself up behind Pidge in the pilot’s seat, head resting on one narrow shoulder. Blue head-bumped Lance on her way over to Allura, who settled down to Keith’s right, her foot pressing against his calf. And then Hunk carried Yellow over, who was _delighted_ with this turn of events, and he set down next to Keith’s left shoulder. After a moment, Keith murmured, “Allura, come closer?”

She did, and he moved carefully so as not to disturb everyone, pulling her forehead to his and breathing. Something settled, something _unlocked_ , and he felt his shoulders finally drop. Allura kept one arm around Blue while she reached up to run her thumb along his right cheek, brushing tears away. “I don’t think your Galra side has been helping this any.”

“This isn’t the Galra mating bond,” Keith whispered. He blinked a few times and then sighed deeply. “My . . . uh. The wording isn’t exactly how this sounds, but my Favorite Person is gone. You . . . okay. Another human thing. Uh.”

“Want me?” Pidge asked softly, their hands still gently carding through his hair. Keith nodded wordlessly, realizing that he was still struggling with explaining what was happening in his mind. Pidge took up the reins with some soft scritches behind his ears and along the nape of his neck with their short nails. This was something they had done shortly after forming Voltron for the first time, both needing some contact after the separation of minds. Both were also grateful that Keith had liked before he had found out that he was half Galra. “I don’t know if there had been anything like this on Altea, but for humans . . . we have a variety of neurodivergent conditions that have various causes. Some are like Shiro’s, which happen because of exterior influence; Keith was born with his, and he does a _lot_ to try to work around it, which probably isn’t helped much by what we’ve been going through recently.”

“We have had similar conditions, but I’m not entirely sure what you mean about Keith being born with his. It’s just who he is, right?” She smiled reassuringly at solemn purple eyes that wouldn’t stop overflowing. Leaning in, she pressed her forehead back to his own and he sighed, relaxing again.

Pidge whispered, “He was born with what is called Autism Spectrum Disorder. It’s not indicative of intelligence or capability, but rather has to do with how someone interprets and integrates sensory information.” Their hands stilled and they leaned down to kiss Keith’s head, which further assisted him with starting to slow his mind again. “We all process information and the world around us differently, but Keith more so than others. Shiro was Keith’s Favorite Person, or his anchor. He was Keith’s touchstone. So when Keith would get overwhelmed, or have a meltdown because there’s too much happening all at once and he can’t categorize everything happening . . .”

Allura nodded slowly, having seen this before between Shiro and Keith. “Keith would always be found close to Shiro after stressful or chaotic events.”

“Exactly. And Keith . . . buddy, you’re having trouble centering, yeah?”

“Mmhm. It _hurts_ , and I don’t know how to unwind my head. And Black wants Shiro, not me.”

Black headbutted Keith’s gut hard enough to wind him and he coughed before realizing that she actually really _did_ want him. And the tears started fresh all over again, cycling Keith back under. Hunk pressed close, but it was Lance who carefully shoved his way closer, pulling Lance against his chest not in the way that Shiro did, but tucked him closer sideways, head pressed over his heart. Hunk smiled and shifted as well to help press against Keith’s open side. “Let me know if we’re crowding you?”

Keith couldn’t speak yet, just nodded and let himself cry his emotions out, overwhelmed. Soon, he was pressed on all sides, and slowly, slowly, he could start his coping mechanisms up again. He could feel Lance smile against the top of his head at feeling his breathing change. Then, all in a rush, Keith felt his body relax and sink against his teammates. He realized that Lance had been humming a song the whole time. Lance had an amazing tone, and Keith smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I’m carrying you to the showers, Lance is gonna give you as much of a spa treatment as you can tolerate, I’ll bring dinner to the Nest room, and then we’ll all get to bed,” Hunk murmured. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m . . . I’m sorry I can’t be Shiro.”

“Idiot,” Allura whispered, brushing his hair out of his face and kissing his forehead. “We just need you to be Keith. Shiro is Shiro; he doesn’t need you to replace him while we look for him.” Kissing the tip of his nose, she smiled warmly. “Let’s go back and nest in together. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“Kolivan will be back?”

“He will. He asked about you, wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. And he said to tell you that he’s proud of you and the Blade is proud that one of their own was chosen by the Black Lion.”

Keith nodded, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment before he shifted once. That signaled the gentle untangling of limbs. But before he could walk anywhere, he was hefted into strong, warm arms.

And he didn’t struggle, opting to let himself relax into Hunk.

~*~

Kolivan wasn’t expecting Keith to sidle closer when he arrived, and he certainly wasn’t expecting the soft bump of an elbow against his lower arm. Looking down, he raised an eyebrow before nodding once. They refocused upon the briefing, then left together with a wave to Allura who grinned and made a shooing motion. Since the humans had shown how much they accepted her familial relationship with Coran, she wanted to foster other familial relationships that the paladins created. Two sentences into their talk, Kolivan’s hands itched. He sighed and interrupted, “Keith, can I be entirely honest with you, cub?”

Knowing that being called cub was a term of endearment, Keith did his best not to be disgruntled with its usage. He wasn’t yet an adult by Galra standards, so he’d adapt. He was lucky that Kolivan had allowed him to be an active member because of his human culture. “Yeah, of course.”

“My instincts are screaming at me to groom you while you talk to soothe the rough edges of your emotions, but I understand that this isn’t something that humans practice.” Kolivan looked _uncomfortable_ , but it was oddly endearing for Keith to see him like this. It was like he was trying so hard to treat Keith like the human adult that he was, rather than the gangly teenager that he was by Galra standards. “And while I understand that you have a mental condition by your father’s people, there are similarities to how Galra operate; we are much more sensitive to our environments than humans are, and often, our cubs seek physical touch and societal grooming to soothe themselves.”

Keith pulled over a stool that brought him a little higher up, easier for Kolivan to reach his head. Lance had massaged his scalp expertly through the shampooing and conditioning of his hair but going to bed with it still damp hadn’t done much in the way of favors. “Okay. Go for it.”

“Your soulmates won’t mind the scent of a Galra on you?” Kolivan sounded a little shocked, like he had expected Keith to refuse.

Turning to make full eye-contact with the Blade Leader, Keith replied, “I _am_ Galra. Once I go through my Galra puberty and not just my human one, I’ll smell more neutral between my parent races if Ulaz and Coran are to be believed. Nobody will care if I smell more like someone else, anyway; humans don’t have the equipment to scent each other like Galra do. Would there be a difference between how your scent would smell to other Galra if it was platonic versus sexual touch?”

The declaration of what he was made Kolivan’s face soften, and he reached forward to start grooming Keith’s hair into something a little more tamed down than when he had started. Clawed hands ran through the longer locks, making it clump up and smooth out with expert motions. “There’s an incredible difference. I almost hope that you do not suddenly develop the sense of smell that we have, because it’s _intolerable_ when Ulaz and his mate are together on base for any length of time.”

“Oh my God, they must be _gross_.”

“Antok assigned their quarters at the end of a little-used corridor after the third time.”

Keith snorted a laugh, imagining the tall mate of the Blade’s Leader directing Ulaz and this faceless Galra to move their stuff.

Returning to the more serious subject, Kolivan began weaving the short hair. “So, because you have this human mental condition, you’re facing troubles concentrating upon the larger picture as a team leader. Have you delegated any duties to your strategic or tactical advisor or officer?”

“I . . . I thought that would be _me_ , though. Because I’m the leader, I thought that I’d have to make all the decisions.”

“You are not an island, Keith. Who can you trust to know where everyone is and take some of that burden from you?”

“Lance,” Keith replied instantly, gut reaction prompting him to stop and examine that response. And he nodded slowly, feeling his hair braided out of his face and off the back of his neck in a style that he realized he liked. It was just firm enough against his skull, but not so tight that it would cause a headache. He’d have to leave this in to show Lance later because between him and Pidge, they needed something to combat helmet hair.

And he blinked as the silence stretched, Kolivan giving him space to think this through. His mind had come to several conclusions about Lance, and he released a deep breath. “We have to re-delegate our duties on the battlefield. The Blue Paladin is no longer our sniper, and the Red Paladin is no longer the frontline attacker. They have different skills and I have to look at how the paladins operate rather than what the skills of the lions are geared towards.”

“Yes. You saw the flaw, and _that_ is why you are going to be a successful Black Paladin.” Kolivan let his hands rest on Keith’s shoulders. “How are you adjusting to learning more about Galran customs and traits?”

“Some things are eerily familiar to how humans do things, but other things . . . Kolivan, how come nobody talks about the ascension process for emperorship?”

“Nobody wants to challenge Zarkon, especially since he has the power of the Druids behind him. Beyond that . . . they’d be foolish to try with the current political climate.” Settling down upon a second stool, Kolivan was glad to get the chance to explain to Keith the nuances that book-learning always seemed to miss.

~*~

One moment, incredible light and heat and—

Darkness.

His mind slowed over a long while as he started to find ways to pull himself together.

And when he had, he wished he hadn’t.

_Fuck._

Shiro was gonna get the third degree from all his soulmates and _then_ some when he found a way to get back to them. Black was at his right, nudging his arm up and resting her head against his side. Her voice was clear, and Shiro had to guess that it was because he was now in _her_ realm rather than her coming into his. “Well, that didn’t exactly work as I had hoped.”

Her raspy voice was reminiscent of every Galra that he had met. Shiro had to smile, knowing that she was very much a lover of all things that did with her first paladin . . . before he went entirely crazy.

So he sighed and carded his hand through her star-spattered ruff. “What was supposed to happen?”

“I was trying to send you directly into Red’s cargo bay; she had been ready to boost my quintessence draw. And then when I pulled, it felt like I was hauling the castle through tar. Shiro, something is very wrong with your quintessence. You are _you_ , but there are several other _yous_ concentrated close to the heart of the Galra empire.” Black looked up and Shiro trembled, but met her gaze. “I believe you have been cloned.”

“What purpose would that have achieved? Cloning isn’t something that many aliens practice if they’re capable of that technology. Not that I’ve heard of or seen, anyway.”

“And you’re correct on that.” Sitting, Black created a bench for Shiro to sit on. He knew it was for his psychological comfort only, but it was appreciated. “But it proves the theory that when you clone a human, the quintessence is also cloned. The same cannot be said of most other species in the universe.”

Shiro forced himself to stay calm, to not shake apart into an anxiety attack. “That isn’t reassuring.”

And his Lion released a deep sigh. “It wasn’t meant to be, dear boy.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Kolivan is literally the softest teddy space cat and I love that everyone is calling him out for not letting me write him any other way. He’s gruff as fuck, but I love the dude. Get ready for some more feels, folks. Sorry not sorry. Also, anticipated not being around this weekend . . . psychiatric disability decided to kick my ass today so you'll find me online here and there. As a result, this is also really not that edited, so please forgive any glaring mistakes._

Keith realized he’d been blind.

Lance was holding him tight, keeping him together as he apologized to a very quiet Kolivan for not _realizing_.

And Lance was surprised when Kolivan had simply pulled both young men into his lap and surrounded them with his long arms. “Galra cry differently, Keith. We grieve differently than humans do. Antok was my mate, and he and I knew very well that one of us would die before the other. We grieved each other’s loss while we could still comfort each other. It . . . is not a happy memory, but it has helped me since he was killed.”

“Practical, but I would _so_ not want to do that with any of my soulmates,” Lance replied, unsure if he could rest against the big Galra like Keith was, but didn’t want to push any boundaries. “Um.”

Kolivan’s chuckle was warm, and he pulled Lance closer before settling back. “If you don’t mind, though, I would very much like a nap. I . . . admit to not sleeping well since Antok’s death and I know that I am far more tired than I am allowing myself to process.”

“We’ll cuddlepuddle tonight,” Lance promised. “Like we did for Ulaz. It’s the least we can do for you as one of our family.”

Kolivan closed his eyes quickly, not letting Lance or Keith see how much that offer meant to him. He would let them know in his own time. Until then . . . maybe he could just lean on the kits a little longer. He dozed off to the feeling of Keith wrapping one arm around his waist.

This cub was the cub that Antok had wanted. So in Antok’s memory, Kolivan would do his best by Keith. If the cub didn’t do him in by anticipating his needs before he even knew what they were.

~*~

Lance followed Keith’s eyes as he slumped off to try another sweep for Shiro with Black. He just wished that there was someone else who could sense Shiro to go out with Keith. He was reminded of the time when he, Hunk, and Pidge first set out to look at the alien craft that had crashed. And he sighed, shaking his head and walking over to Red’s hangar. Alone.

He hated this. He had thought that with five soulmates, _someone_ would be available.

Opening the door, he blinked at the second lion waiting beside his Red. “Blue?” Blinked again. “Allura?”

She turned with a smile, flight suit on and helmet in hands. “Come fly with me.”

And for a moment, Lance thought that he could. But his eyes welled up, and he let his head hang to hide his gaze. Before he realized what was happening, he found himself encompassed by strong arms and the smell of alien flowers. They crumbled into a heap, and he found himself curled up close on a second alien’s lap in less than a few hours. This time, he had no reservations about tucking his head against someone’s neck and letting the tears just stream from his eyes. He wasn’t sobbing, he wasn’t weeping.

He was just so tired that the saltwater drained silently down his face.

“We’ve been neglecting you, haven’t we?” Allura whispered, finger-combing his hair. She’d taken her gloves off at some point, and Lance shuddered, nodding. “I’m so sorry; you try so hard to help everyone else that it’s sometimes difficult to see that _you_ need help just as often.” Kissing his nose, grinning at the face he made because it was running and he was _gross_ , Allura whispered, “Let’s go swimming instead. You always feel your best when you’re in the water.”

Within two hours, they had taken to the “human” pool, swam laps until they were exhausted, joined by Pidge in a short-sleeve and short-legged bodysuit. And then the three sat in the hot-tub with chilled water pouches to ease some of their aches.

Pidge finally sighed and shuffled closer to snuggle up beside Lance. “I’m sorry that we’re shitty soulmates to you sometimes. You just . . . you also don’t make enough _noise_ for us to realize that we aren’t always attentive. It’s hard with a group as big as ours.”

“It’s why a lot of humans with large soulmate groups tend to look outside their cohort, I think,” Lance murmured, lightly resting his arm around their shoulders. “But I’m also from a big family where the people who complain the loudest often get told that they’re ‘attention seeking’ and ‘immature.’ And all of you folks are _so cool_ and here _I_ am, just barely good enough of a nobody pilot to—”

“Who the fuck took out three Galra with two shots when I was hacking on that last mission? From _who the fuck knows where your position was_? Because Keith is _still_ trying to figure that out.” Pidge interrupted. “Oh, wait. I’m sorry. Who the fuck _holds Voltron’s sword_?”

“Who the _actual fuck_ made me realize that I had a loving and attentive partner in them _especially_ when I’m at my brattiest and helps me work through racist thoughts and rewrite my responses without judging me?” Allura sniffed. “Hardly a _nobody_ , Lance.”

The way she said his name always made him melt a little. “But—”

“Lance, I’m not _only_ a Paladin, but I’m the leader of my two-person planet, I’m our primary contact with the other Coalition leaders, and I’m continuing as much study of Altean alchemy as I can in what time I have.” Allura turned his face back towards her, and she leaned in to kiss him hard, claiming his mouth as hers. Her hand stroked his blunt, rounded ear and she drew back, fingertips trailing along his jaw to rest under his chin. “I am not about to waste my time with anyone’s presence which I would value below the lowest of my responsibilities. Beyond that, I’d like to think that my opinion on this matter counts for _something_.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, _Lance_ ,” she purred, leaning in to steal another kiss. “Oh.”

Pidge coughed a little, blushing and looking away.

Allura leaned over to press a kiss to Pidge’s forehead, pausing to nuzzle her nose against their hairline. “I’m unable to shower you with nuzzles when I want to kiss Lance and that is simply unacceptable.”

Smiling softly, Lance curled his arm a little more firmly around Pidge, who relaxed a little further against his side. “You two are adorable and I love it. I’ll . . . I’ll be okay—”

“We care if you’re _not okay_ , though,” Allura said firmly, tone indicating that there would be no argument from his quarter. “Shiro would be _smothering_ you with affection if he was here.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t you say that Kolivan was joining the Nest tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. I’m going to smother you between myself and Hunk tonight, and we can put him on Hunk’s other side with Keith. Pidge, what do you think?”

Pidge giggled. “I have to admit, I absolutely fell asleep in Green’s hangar this one time, and I _totally_ woke up on Ulaz’s chest on the pallet that Hunk insisted I bring in there. He was out of his mind _adorable_ because he literally can’t stop himself from thinking of me as being a _really, really tiny Galra cub_.”

Lance wheezed, voice escaping him in a whisper, “Oh my _God_ you mean that you’re gonna camp out on Kolivan’s chest?”

“They’d _better_ for outsing me like that,” a familiar voice hissed, and all three Paladins swept out of the hot tub to surround Ulaz in a very wet embrace of welcome.

Allura’s arms were the first around him, and the narrow Galra was very happy to see her genuine joy at seeing him. She’d been working hard and had come a long way and they both knew it would be longer yet before she was free from her prejudices and racism. But she was starting, and he was very happy to count her as his friend.

~*~

Keith returned to the castleship to see that more of the Blades members had arrived just before him with their ships in the main hangar. Some even turned to wave at the passing Black Lion. Once she was settled and they’d taken a few moments to work on their Bond, Keith was happy to find that the handful of those he considered his Glara family were waiting to greet him in the elevator from the hangars. Something that he hadn’t realized he was missing from his life was walking anywhere as a pack. Yeah, Blades were generally loners by nature and had to be okay with long, lonely assignments, but Galra as a race were driven to be around others. Hell, affection was half-fighting in a way to establish compatibility of members in a loose pack. Embracing Regris had almost starting a shoving match with him, and he endured the rough hair-ruffling of a couple of the older members who were often available if he had any questions about Galra things.

Even though he still hasn’t found Shiro, he had many people who still cared about him very much in two different locations. And those were a homes worth returning to. At this home, the mess hall had become an informal hub of activity, and he was swept right into Hunk preparing a meal for everyone.

“Keith!” at least four voices yelled, welcoming him back in, and he smiled, still trying to beat off the tears that _he was loved so much_ and he ran right into Ulaz and the _smell_ of the doctor was—

Kolivan’s hand rested on the back of his neck and squeezed lightly, almost a scruff. Anyone who didn’t know would think it was just a welcome back. Keith could almost smell the _amber-cinnamon-surf—_

Wait.

Keith pressed his nose closer to Ulaz and smelled _earth and cinnamon_ , then stepped back to stare up at him. With a quick movement that they anticipated, he shoved his nose against Kolivan’s suit, and found that smell _different_ in a way that he hadn’t noticed before, full of _ocean salt_ and _tumeric_ , then found himself hugged tight by Regris who smelled like _young pup_ and _cocoa-whiskey_ and he shoved him back to breathe. “Oh my _god_ , I think my nose is actually starting to wake up.” And he looked at Ulaz and winced. “Oh god _no_.”

The Blade members laughed as a whole, startling Allura out of her sleepy slump beside a grinning Lance. He waved to Keith, then explained with a loud call, “So this means you’ll be able to sniff out when Ulaz has seen his mate recently?”

“I don’t want it! Take it back!” Keith laughingly wailed, moving closer to rub his nose against Lance’s before diving in for a quick kiss. “It . . . it’s easier to be welcomed back into a busy hub like this than when . . .”

“We’ll try to do this more often. Just give us an ETA, okay?” Lance brushed his hand over Keith’s hair, tucking part of it up behind one ear before Keith was on the move again. And when he was whisked into the kitchen area by Hunk, Lance pulled out his rarely-used soulpen to fiddle with it absently. With a mental startle, he grinned up to Allura. “We haven’t used these around you yet! Guys! The pens!”

“Wait, what?” Pidge jumped up from where they had cornered Regris for a round of cards. They’d both been really into teach each other gambling games since very shortly after they had met. “Oh my god! We can show the Blade! I’ll get mine!”

“Get the rest!” Keith called over, not looking up from where he was dicing up some vegetables for Hunk’s meal. It was some sort of hot-pink tuber. “I know that you know where they all are, you menace!”

Laughing, Pidge darted out of the room much to the confusion of the Galra. Lance grinned. It was good to see those two working their way out of their respective slumps. And in some way, that helped him work his own way out. So while Hunk and Keith continued cooking (and it was fantastic to be able to watch those two also relax around each other again), he waited until Pidge got back, passed out the pens to their owners, and then finger-gunned at Lance. “Spousey has done their job. Your turn.”

Peeking around Allura’s hair, Lance checked open spots of skin on their two cooks, swiftly uncapped his pen, and wrote on the inside of his left wrist, right over Keith’s old scars, _Hey, Space-Cowboy. I fink u freeky and I like you a lot!_ 🎶

Keith’s face bloomed with an impressive blush. “Lance!”

Allura gasped, staring in shock at her forearm, almost literally glowing with her glee. “Look! Oh! I wonder if this will work in reverse.”

Lance laughed, leaning in to kiss his handwriting on Allura’s forearm while Hunk ran over, ran his fingers over the text that wasn’t obscured by Lance’s head. “Foreign material beneath the skin! And it’ll fade, too, because this stuff doesn’t cause scarring. Coran! We’re gonna need your help for an experiment!”

As the night wore on and the novelty dimmed to a more sustainable level of excitement, the paladins and the Galra sorted out sleeping arrangements then dispersed. Once back at the nest, Lance and Hunk found themselves curled close, with Pidge passed out on their laps and Keith and Allura bracketing them in. Everyone’s left arms were covered with personal graffiti while their rights had remained entirely bare, despite if someone was right- or left- handed. Allura was ambidextrous, which made this easy.

Kolivan felt uneasy to be so close to settling down for the night. He hadn’t slept beside anyone since Antok passed, and despite accepting the loss of his mate, it wasn’t like it was going to be easy. He wasn’t sure how to proceed, not while still trying to keep an eye on Keith to make sure that the cub was going to be okay. Not while trying to keep himself from coddling Pidge, who could out-smart and out-fight most infantry Galra. Drawing in a deep breath, he did something that he hadn’t expected he would do: he looked to Ulaz for direction.

His medic smiled slightly before crouching before the group sitting/lounging on the couch. “Shall we start getting ready?”

“Shower time,” Pidge’s sleepy voice murmured before they staggered off towards the water showers. Kolivan went to follow, but was caught by Hunk’s now-free hand.

“Give them a couple minutes to get into their shower; they like physical privacy. Then we can start the orgy.”

Kolivan choked on his own spit, then saw the expressions on the humans’ faces and sighed. “Human teasing.”

“Yeap. Do you have something that _isn’t_ a uniform to sleep in?” Hunk waited, but at Kolivan’s sheepish look, the human rolled his eyes with an affectionate grin. “Okay, so that’s clearly a Galra trait that Keith has.”

“Hey! It just means it takes less time for me to get ready in an emergency,” Keith grumbled, poking Hunk’s cheek.

Ulaz laughed. “He’s not wrong.”

“See?! I _knew it!_ Keith! You’re a _motherfucking alien._ ”

Ulaz, clearly overtired from being on recovery teams, laughed and started taking off some of the extra layers of his suit. “No, that would be _Kolivan_.”

The humans and the human-hybrid all tilted their heads with a blink in an eerily-coordinated move that actually had Allura snort a laugh. “I think you may have mixed some of your colloquialisms, Ulaz!”

But as soon as the four Paladins had begun trailing Pidge into the showers, Ulaz shot Kolivan a panicked look.

Kolivan was already glaring at him.

Fuck.

~*~

Kolivan was the last to realize what the plan of who was going to sleep where had been until he found himself pressed up to the Yellow Paladin with Keith worming his way up beside him. He didn’t mind this as much and the place in the back of his mind began to soften. Then Pidge finally shuffled their way over to the nest in an oversized shirt and some leggings and didn’t go to where there was room by Allura. He blinked around the nest, unsure where the littlest (scariest) Paladin was going to find space.

And then he was very gently landed upon by a tangle of warm limbs attached to a cub so decidedly overtired and unwilling to settle that a purr shot _right_ out from under Kolivan’s tight control. He slapped his hand over his mouth, absolutely in outright disbelief that he had been so completely _rude_ as to—

The bed stilled at the purr and Kolivan was further humiliated. Ulaz’s head popped up. “Leader, they won’t be offended. Keith can barely smell us unless he’s in our armpits, for stars’ sake.”

“I should still apologize, Green Paladin, for—”

“For what, being comfortable enough that instinct overrides conscious control?” Pidge asked. They laughed heartily and Lance groaned, just _knowing_ what was going to happen yet. “Do you pop unintentional boners? Erections? No real idea what’s happening, but BAM you got something a little unyielding that is demanding attention? Because Lance is the _king_ of unintentional boners. Because my dude there is _so comfortable_ that his body thinks that it’s time to have sex because that’s the level of satisfaction he’s got when he’s snuggled down with two or more of us.”

“Oh my god, he _does_ ,” Keith whispered. “That’s so fucking adorable and I will murder any of you if you repeat that.”

“Noted,” came the laughed response from most of the bed. Lace held out. “Noted, _unless_ I’m the one using it to tease you when I know you’re not going to be awkward hearing it.”

“Fine.”

“I love you, Space Mullet.”

“I love you too, uh . . . Lance.”

“Fucking adore you, dude,” Hunk laughed, hand reaching around Kolivan to stroke through dark hair. “All right, new rule for Galra.”

He had both sets of glowing eyes, unwavering in their attention. And he smiled. “No being embarrassed about natural things like purring or nesting or grooming. Humans don’t have your instincts, but we’re also not going to say no to something that’s going to make everyone else more comfortable. Okay? Just make sure that we know what boundaries not to cross in public or in private.”

At their nods, Allura ordered the lights to a lower level. And Kolivan tried, he really did _try_ to settle back down. It took some time, and then there was shifting over on Hunk’s other side. Lance’s hand reached over to rest along Hunk’s chest, fingertips resting on Kolivan’s shoulder. Something about the Red Paladin’s touch . . . it was the simple contact, a familiar motion but not towards a familiar body. Lance was used to doing this to Keith, and clearly equated the gentle touch with any possibly-Galra traits. None of the humans could know how much trust it could sometimes take to initiate trust between male-presenting Galra of certain aggression levels.

But that touch, then Pidge shifted and began to snore softly, and that noise softened Keith against his side and like a tidal wave, it was dark and warm and he wasn’t aware of much of anything at all.

~*~

Shiro watched from a distance, Black at his side and yet _not_. He turned to look over his shoulder at the bright spot still coming closer. They’d almost found it (it, like the clone was an _object_ , but Shiro was so _so_ bitter about the fact that he was cloned) in the real universe today. But there was still too much interference, and Keith was still not yet able to find himself in the astral realms. Lance had always been the best, the most adaptive, and Shiro and Black were working very hard to keep themselves separate and to also not overwhelm one another during battles. Shiro _did_ help Black connect to Keith a little better here and there.

Sighing, he whispered, “What are we going to do when the clone gets here?”

“I could kill him.”

“Could you? If he’s _me_ and his Quintessence is essentially mine? _Could_ you kill your Paladin with cold intent?”

The slow shake of a large head was all that Shiro needed to see. He looked back to the approaching comet, bright blue tail drifting back the way it came from, twisting with sickly purple.

“Oh my god.”

“He’ll kill us all. He may not know that he will end all that we’ve worked for, and will be heartbroken to know that he was used. But that Quintessence . . .” Black whispered. “That’s _Haggar’s_ signature.”

“How, though? _How_ could we _possibly_ tell Keith that someone with my face, possibly even all of my scars, has to _die_?”

Black had nothing to say, eyes distant as she felt Keith settle into deeper sleep. “I don’t know what to do, Shiro. Perhaps we lie in wait.”

“Will it kill us, though? Letting a sleeper agent in? It is, Black, and you know it.”

She shook her head, unable to comprehend the idea herself that someone was going to end up having to kill a clone of her beloved Paladin.

“Then we’re gonna have to find a way to make it so that he’s not a threat, aren’t we?”

~*~

Keith woke up with a start.

“I know where Shiro is!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Closing Note:** Fuck canon! Or is it: Fuck, canon! Interactive reader time! Do you think that Keith figured out where Shiro is, or where Kuron is? This story could follow either path, and I’m trying to figure out which way I should take this. _


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So ... I went with "fuck canon." Buckle up, buttercubs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Many thanks to crossoverAUman, Fantasy_Forger, BlackStar1702, skie89, artbymaryc, and MaskedSilhouette for commenting! Your insight helped shape the next two chapters and aim us even further off into an AU than I had anticipated. _

Kolivan was barking orders to the Blade to set up a secure perimeter within the Black Lion’s hangar once the five lions had positioned themselves. The four brightly-colored lions curled close around Black in their center, all five heads tucked close. Each Paladin sat in their lion, audio lines open between them as they prepared to try something they’d never done before. At most, they had felt the edges of _that place_ brushing their awareness, usually at a crucial point in a battle. Allura was understandably concerned that there wouldn’t be a way to come back from the Lions’ Astral planes, but they had to _try_.

“Check in,” Keith’s voice commanded over the comms, low with intensity.

“Grounded,” Hunk murmured for all of them when he could feel their “headhole” baseline settle into place. His voice was always the softest when they were doing the mental exercises.

Before Allura could step in to guide them to the next phase, the Lions themselves stepped in to continue the half-formulated ritual.

Five Paladins stood surrounding Shiro and the Black Lion. “Oh.”

Keith hauled ass and ran right into Shiro’s arms, followed almost immediately by their other four Soulmates. For an eternity, the six hugged and wept, their lions sitting watch around them. After a long, long while, Shiro whispered, “Keith . . . I—”

“I know.” Keith shuddered. “I know you died, Shiro.”

“ _Mostly_ dead,” Pidge coughed out. “Not all dead. You’re _here_.”

“Mostly dead,” Shiro agreed, kissing their forehead and pressing his nose against their hair. “I don’t know if there’s any coming back from this. But you _have_ to know that . . . there’s . . . Guys, you’re going to run into a version of ‘me.’”

“What?” Lance asked softly.

“I was . . . I was _cloned_. And it . . . he’s?” Shiro sighed. “The clone is closing in on your position. And he’s going to have something of a hitchhiker.”

“Show me,” Allura commanded, left hand out. Shiro placed his left hand in hers, and he could _feel_ her touch the sense of _Haggar_ and how it interacted with the quintessence—

Allura shoved his left sleeve up.

His arm matched theirs, revealing love letters and doodles and sweet nonsense that the soulpens had left on physical skin.

“It _is_ the quantum resonance of our quintessence,” she breathed, pulling his hand up to cup his palm along her cheek. “Shiro. You’re still _alive_. You wouldn’t have the soulpen markings if you weren’t. I don’t know how, but we’ll fix this. We’ll find a way to bring you back to us.”

“I . . . might have an idea, but it’s really fucking dangerous,” Shiro whispered. “And it will put every single one of you in danger while it’s in motion.”

Lance and Keith stared at each other and whispered, “Oh.”

Pidge and Hunk blinked at each other, then to Allura, who shrugged. “I guess they’re the tactical geniuses.”

The Cuban teen’s voice was soft. “You want us to welcome the clone as if he’s _you_ , Shiro. Because there’s no secret that the Black Lion has been on a lot of reconnaissance recently and you haven’t been making appearances. Hell, even _Lotor_ noticed this about us, and knew that we weren’t the same team that defeated his father.”

“The clone will think that he _is_ me,” Shiro replied, reaching out to brush his thumb over the edge of Lance’s cheek, soothing him. “And he’ll expect everyone to treat him as if he is me. That handprint that we all got a couple days ago . . . that was the Galra arm, cauterizing the wound in his leg. That’s something that I would have done, and I honestly feel a fuck ton of sympathy for the guy knowing that he had to do that to _himself_.”

There was a long silence as everyone processed this, minds still close enough to feel the echoes of this possibility across each other’s thoughts. Pidge drew in a deep breath. “Shiro, I know how to control him. Or at least have a plan in place to stop him if he becomes . . . a threat.”

“I don’t want to cut this short,” Hunk said softly, “but Yellow is eyeing me and I can feel that we might not have enough mental energy to keep this up much longer. Will we be able to do this again, be around Shiro again?”

“Yes.”

All heads swiveled towards the Black Lion, who broke the circle and padded closer. “I will make sure of it and will assist in making time for us to meet along the way. But if we are going to follow Shiro’s plan, which I do _not_ like, it is the best option we have.”

Shiro sighed, his flesh hand fisting in Black’s dark fur, Galra arm still wrapped tightly around Keith. “I know you don’t like this, but there’s too much at stake to tip off Haggar that we’re aware that she’s cloned me.”

Hunk pressed up behind Shiro, Pidge wedged themself around Black to snuggle up with their head over Shiro’s heart. Lance curled around Keith, shocking Shiro at how sudden the current Black Paladin relaxed between the press of their astral bodies. And Allura pulled him in for a deep, satisfying kiss that he wasn’t expecting to like as much as he did, but she wasn’t _gentle_ or _feminine_ or even _human_ about the kiss. And he could _feel_ something pass between them.

When he opened his eyes, he whispered, “What did you just do, Princess?”

“Stabilized you a little. I’ll need to recover a bit when we get back, but I could feel you and Black merging fields a little more than the standard overlap between Paladin and Lion. My quintessence is just different enough from yours in ways that make it incompatible with Black as a pilot.”

“But as a Paladin, you are still acceptable to me, just not _mine_ in the way that Shiro and Keith are mine. Well done. I hadn’t thought of that,” Black replied, amber eyes bright. “But we’re out of time. I will attempt to continue to communicate with you through Keith.”

Four Paladins found themselves back in their bodies without further ceremony, but it too another few seconds for Keith to check in. His voice was strong. “We have a location lock and Black is transmitting it to the control room for you to open a bridge, Princess. We will call him Shiro, and we will _not_ tell the Blade that he is a clone unless it is absolutely necessary. Pidge, Hunk, while Allura is powering the teludav, pull together every possible scan that we can run on him. Use the excuse that we don’t know how he was ‘transported’ across the galaxy if he gives pushback. Lance, I’m going to need you as my right hand and my second set of eyes.”

“I already am, just give me a direction to move in,” Lance replied, voice just as firm.

“Stay in your Lion and be ready to provide backup if he’s been followed.”

“Roger.”

“What do you want to tell the Blade?” Hunk asked. “You _know_ they’re going to ask why we had to do it this way. You just yelled that you knew where Shiro was and ordered us to our Lions.”

Keith’s grin was infectious. “Who knows how the Lions work? Even Alfor didn’t know all their secrets. We just found Shiro’s location, and Allura is making a bridge to retrieve him.”

“Lying by omission feels strange, and I don’t like not letting the Blade know.”

The Lions untangled themselves, but all looked to Keith as he thought about this. “I’ll tell Kolivan, and only him. He . . . doesn’t have the same emotional ties we have to Shiro to hold back if the clone becomes a threat.”

~*~

Shiro opened his eyes, blearily staring through the glass before it slid aside and he was able to slowly disembark from the pod into Keith’s waiting hold. “Hey.”

“Hey. You were in there for about a day.” He rubbed his hands up and down Shiro’s biceps, grounding him a little from the woozy headspace that Coran couldn’t yet figure out how to negate. “How are you doing?”

“I’m . . . I have a headache?” Shiro sighed, sagging. “I thought that I wouldn’t be able to find you again.”

Keith’s gaze softened and he pulled Shiro in for a hug. “Did you want to go back to the nest?”

“I think it might be a little too much right now? Can . . . can we just . . .”

“I’ll let everyone know later tonight, then. Let’s get you into something a little more comfortable and grab some food, okay?”

A flash of anger swept over Shiro’s face. “I’m not an _invalid_.”

“I never said you were.”

The firmness of Keith’s response shocked Shiro. This wasn’t the same Keith he left behind when Black sent him somewhere across the galaxy. Purple eyes were slightly harder, more focused, and there had been _growth_ here. Growth that he had missed. “I’m-I’m sorry, Keith. I don’t know why I’m so on edge right now.”

“You _just_ got back _again_ ; I’m not going to hold your emotions against you. Let’s take care of basic needs first, then we can start looking at the next steps. You can take the time you need to recover, okay?” Keith’s hand went up to tuck long hair behind Shiro’s ear, stroking the side of his neck on the way down to rest on his shoulder. “If you need space, just let us know.”

It didn’t take more than a day before it was clear that something was _off_. And Shiro knew it. The Paladins were a little gentler with him than before, but not in any way that was too far out of the normal. They were tender with him, helping him when he needed it. Keith was pulling double-duty with the Blades, which meant that when he was on the Castleship, at least half of his day was either spent on mission with the other Galra or he was compiling notes from transmissions sent his way. It was a diligence that Shiro had only seen when Keith had been at his absolute _best_ in the Garrison. It was strange to see him engaged on a level that he had missed out on watching him grow to this point.

Two months passed this way. Shiro tried to cut his hair, but seeing photos of himself with it short just felt _wrong_ to him. Like it _wasn’t_ him. So he left it long. Every time he tried to remember beyond getting captured, he’d get another headache. It’s like the life he had on Earth was just out of reach, but from what he remembered about how PTSD worked, this could be a very common thing in some cases.

Two months where Keith drew farther away, and Shiro _let him go_. Two months of pleading with the Black Lion until _she let him in_. But it still didn’t _feel_ the same. Two months of watching the others continue to solidify their bonds with each other, even _Keith_ when he stopped over with the team for what he said was “doctor-ordered soulmate leave” to help his continued growth and development. Two months of not being able to sleep beside his Soulmates unless it was one at a time. He stopped sleeping in the Nest after two disastrous nights. Two months of _never_ letting his guard down around the Galra, even if they were allies.

And then Pidge disappeared. Shiro sighed. He knew they were off to find their family. Allura and Coran were disappointed in his inability to keep Pidge on-base as the newly-reaffirmed Black Paladin. Bowing his head, he went off to his bunk. Lance watched him go, stung from a recent snarl from the clone that it was his bad influence on Pidge that encouraged the rebellious behavior. He trembled, literally _shaking_ with anger and hurt, and not even Allura’s hands could soothe the pain. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, feeling Coran’s hand reach over and rub long, paternal lines down Lance’s back. “I’m so sorry, my boy.”

Coran didn’t know.

But he didn’t offer any excuses on Shiro’s behalf. There was simply _no_ excuse for his behavior.

He just hoped that Pidge really found Matt this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** This chapter got way too long, so I split it to focus each on a particular point of the plot._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Looks like I’m going to try to get two chapter out a weekend this month. Next chapter is written, just have to edit it and doublecheck to see how I want to proceed. _

“Matt! Oh my god, _Matt_!” Keith hurdled himself out of his Blade skimmer as soon as the Green Lion’s cargo bay was pressurized again, darting the few feet closer and disengaging his mask. “Oh my god!”

“Keith! You mother _fucker_ I got words for you!” Matt opened his arms and swung his friend around in a firm hug, taller and with denser muscles. “Katie-fuck. Pidge?” He called over his shoulder. “Which name?”

“Pidge around other people, but Katie is fine for you!” they called back from where they were heading back to pilot Green back towards the Castle. “Keith, I need you to catch him up. I won’t get through it all and Green won’t let you pilot her.”

“You got it. I’ll bring him up when we’re through.”

“Hunk sent provisions; we should be back in about six hours. Bring me food when you’re done.”

Once they were behind the closed cockpit door, Matt looked down at Keith, voice dropping soft. “What happened.”

Taking a seat on a storage crate, Keith sighed, motioning for Matt to sit. When he did, Keith moved closer. He might have to catch Matt either physically or emotionally, and he wanted to be within reach when that happened. “Shiro’s gotten into some trouble. He’s alive, but the person you see with Shiro’s face . . . isn’t him. He was cloned.”

“Where is he.” Matt’s voice was a low growl, and one hand went out to grip Keith’s knee. “I owe him my life, Keith. _Where is Shiro?_ ”

“Physically . . . dead. In all other ways, alive and in a very safe place.”

Matt’s eyes glazed, he drew in a deep breath and sighed. “I’ve seen some crazy shit these last two years. Okay. So he’s still alive, but needs a physical body.” Focusing back on Keith, he asked, “What do you need me to do?”

“You knew him the best and longest. We need you to help us prove to the clone that he’s not really Shiro.”

~*~

Pidge’s return with Matt and Keith brought sighs of relief. Matt knew that the Blade were Galra, and that gave him some concern. He hadn’t been prepared to see Keith and another young Galra immediately launch into a sparring match and tumble off to the side with a level of familiarity that he had only seen Keith display in private settings. But he didn’t let that stop him as he ran up to Shiro-that-wasn’t-Shiro and was surprised to see the smile, the tears of joy, or the embrace that felt _exactly_ like Shiro’s hugs. Stepping back with a smile, he tugged on the black and white ponytail that tied off at the nape of Shiro’s neck. “I like it. Rugged. Suave. Does it get all the guys?”

“Oh my _God_ , bro, _stop_ ,” Pidge groaned, punching his arm as they passed him. “I need a shower.”

They paused to smile up at Shiro, who ruffled their hair and smiled. “Thanks for going AWOL on us.”

“Thanks for not following me and getting in my way,” Pidge grunted irritably in reply, mood shifting in a blink at the words. “Keith was the major help here, Shirogane. You ordered me to stop looking.”

“Pidge!” Keith barked, all playfighting forgotten as he strode closer. “Enough, please. We found Matt. I had the freedom to help once the Black Lion let Shiro in again, and Voltron has had a _lot_ of responsibilities in the last couple weeks. It’s—” He froze, staring at Shiro’s left elbow, leaning closer. “Hey, who fucked up their elbow while I was gone? I didn’t even feel that and it looks like a doozy.”

“Uh, nobody?” Hunk frowned. “I would have known about it.”

Shiro’s face colored. “I’ve . . . had scars and bruises show up. Nobody else has had them. I don’t know what this is about.”

“Pidge!” Keith barked.

“We’re secure!”

Matt straightened, and Shiro felt something inside him _shrink_. He pulled his shirt sleeve up and lifted his left elbow to Keith. “Does. It. Match.”

Keith nodded. This was it. This was what they were waiting for.

Black’s warm presence flooded Keith’s mind with an update. The information gathered had finally triangulated a location that was high on their agenda. But it was also the embrace of welcome. He’d have to cut back on his Blade duties again, but he knew that Kolivan would understand, and would only assign missions if it was absolutely necessary. Being Black Paladin wasn’t the job Keith was best suited for, but he’d do the job if the Lion required it of him.

Shiro started to tremble. “What does it mean, Matt?”

Matt’s voice was low. “Adam didn’t repudiate me. _I_ repudiated _him_. That meant that my scars would _never_ show up on his body, but his would continue to show up on _mine_.”

“But . . . but he repudiated me! And I him!”

“You _remember_ the day that you both walked away from each other,” Keith replied, moving closer, Kolivan not far behind him, scowl in place and eyes unwavering. “But was it really _you_?”

“Of _course_ it was me! Keith, we found out that we were soulmates that day!”

“No, sweetheart,” Allura whispered, voice so tender it tore Shiro’s heart into pieces. “It wasn’t you. We know it wasn’t you, but we are _not_ going to throw you back to where you came from.”

Something changed in his face.

Keith reached the clone before anyone else could, blade out and the edge up against a pale throat. “Take the arm off or I’ll do it myself.”

“Heh.”

“Take. The arm. Off.” He knew it could be done, but he was knocked aside and his vision spun. Before he could shake himself out, Shiro—the clone was on him again, and everything was reactionary. Nobody could interfere, no matter how they tried to until the Paladins had cleared everyone back and away to avoid getting hit by a wild swing. Anyone who got too close would only get injured by one of the two with the wild attacks.

The pace was brutal, and it was over almost as fast as it had begun.

The clone collapsed with a soft cry and fell unconscious as soon as Keith had literally cut the Galra arm off below where Shiro’s remaining flesh ended, not willing to even possibly harm the body of the man he loved. Dropping his sword, he staggered a few feet away, fell to his knees, and emptied his stomach onto the hangar floor.

A hand rubbed his back while he heard Coran and Kolivan hustle the shocked-but-coming-around clone out of the hangar. Hoarsely, he called, “Pidge!”

“Yeah, Team Leader?”

Coughing past the bile, he ordered, “Scan the arm and quarantine it. Run scans on the clone when he’s in the pod, too.”

“On it.” They were off, feet skidding only momentarily to pick up the arm on their way to their workstation, which had thankfully avoided all damage.

Lance helped Keith to his feet, eyes darting over the bruise from Shiro’s haymaker that lit up Keith’s left cheekbone. Keith cupped Lance’s right cheek, leaning in to recenter himself. Standing straighter, he took his knife back from Allura, sheathing it and leaning a little more on Lance. His thoughts came in short sentences as he found the words. “We’re going to have to talk to Shiro again to see how he wants to proceed. I don’t think that we’re going to be able to get close to the cloning facility until we’ve pushed the Galra Empire back a considerable amount. Black has the coordinates, but I don’t want to put them anywhere hackable. Zarkon’s grip on the Black Lion is still there, but he doesn’t have access to her memory.”

“Understood. So what we have to do now, is figure out who this person actually is who has Shiro’s face and a Soulmate bond to us, and to Adam.” She sighed, looking over the remaining people in the hangar. Pidge was half out of their armor with Matt right by their side with Hunk as they ran and interpreted several scans and tests of the Galra arm. Coran and the mice were cleaning up with a few of the Blades also pitching in to help mop up Keith’s disgrace.

Just as he was about to apologize, Lance tugged him closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You did something none of us could. And I know you’re triggered right now and need time to decompress. I don’t want to be around many people right now.”

“Me either,” Allura admitted, smiling sadly at Keith’s nod.

“Let’s play hookie,” Lance whispered. “C’mon, showers then a swim and some hottub time?” He smiled as Keith leaned into him, then began walking with Allura on the Black Paladin’s other side.

Kolivan watched them go, then turned to Pidge and Hunk, who glanced up just in time to see Allura hustling the boys through a door. They looked over to Kolivan and waved him closer. “The clone’s consciousness wasn’t in the arm, but it probably was the cause of most of his headaches. Instead, there’s behavioral programming in here that we only see in AIs. He was still conscious when you put him in the pod, right?”

“Yes. Very much so, and very confused. He was weeping and apologizing.”

“Thought so. The clone isn’t the sleeper agent; it was his arm. We’ve removed all power sources, but we think that this was trying to overwrite the basics of Shiro’s personality, and the clone’s emergent unique sentience. I’ll need more time to study this further. I don’t think that they had a backup control method ready, according to what the medipod is scanning. Which is lazy work for subterfuge.”

“What about the signal? Haggar would have made sure to program in or create a backdoor in the programming to still monitor after that’s all been done? Or to eliminate him after we found him out.”

Pidge thumbed over their shoulder at Hunk, who grinned. “The Lions naturally exude a resonance and an energy pattern that took care of blocking _most_ of the transmissions. Pidge perfected it before finding Matt. That amount of time spent out of contact with Haggar must have been enough to set the AI to trigger some sort of protocol to take over the clone’s mind if we revealed him.”

“We’re going to need him, his face at least, for a while longer,” Kolivan murmured. “We can’t let her know that she’s failed right now. I’ll have our base fabricate a replacement prosthetic for the clone for public appearances.”

“We can play it like Keith’s returned from advanced training to take over his duties as Black Paladin while Shiro stays on the Castleship to help with strategy.” Hunk replied. “At least, I’ll be bringing that up with the others once we’re settled tonight. How long will the clone be in the pod?”

“Coran indicated that he could change the setting from healing to suspended animation without the pod’s inhabitant knowing, so for however long we need.”

“We might need a few days to figure this out. Okay.” Setting their hands down and scrubbing at the back of their neck, Pidge sighed. “Well, this is gonna suck to figure out, but at least he sounds like he’s not a complete douchebag, despite all the shit he’s said to Lance.”

“I’ll wait until he changes his behavior towards Lance before letting him close again,” Hunk replied softly, voice firm and eyes downcast. “We’ve got our hands full with helping our boy get his confidence back up.”

Kolivan nodded. “We shall keep watch tonight; all of you should settle down together. Regris, Droval, Gerzha, get rest. You’re second shift. I’ll take first here. Ulaz is in the medical bay, and Lo’sha is running patrols.” The three nodded, heading off towards the suite that the Blade had been assigned for their private use.

Matt straightened. “Tonight is for Soulmates; I’ll talk to Coran over there and see if he’s got somewhere I can pass out for a while.”

“Take my old room,” Pidge replied, locking down their console. “I’ll show you where it is. Kolivan, thank you.”

They headed off and Hunk paused before heading towards the group’s communal room. “Thank you for being there for us, Kolivan. I think that it’s clear you’ve been helping us a lot more than you would have if you were only professionally interested in our agenda.” He smiled broadly, the first honest and unguarded expression that Kolivan had seen on his face since the clone had arrived. “You’ve been priceless in helping Keith find himself, possibly for the first time. Thank you. He’s needed you to help guide him that we just . . . aren’t capable of.”

Speechless, Kolivan watched as the Yellow Paladin left the room. Coran huffed with amusement as he walked up to stand beside the shocked Galra. “He’s got a point, you know.” And as Coran walked off, Kolivan realized that without intending to, he really had taken the place of a father to the hybrid. Well, shit. That wasn’t the plan.

Sitting on a stool, he crossed his arms and stared at the floor in a state of partial-meditation to figure out how under all the stars he was supposed to proceed from here.


	22. Chapter 22

Shiro welcomed his soulmates back with no less emotion than last time, though Keith was the center again, having had to be the one to incapacitate the clone. He didn’t let himself stay in the spotlight too long, emotions still too raw to continue feeling the press of their love. So he switched into business mode, Hunk’s fingertips at the small of his back helping him continue to settle. Shiro had his arms around Lance, quietly embracing him and occasionally pressing a kiss to his neck or to his shoulder, reassuring him. Pidge and Allura had arms resting around each other, their lions leaning against their free sides.

“We won’t be able to get to the cloning facility anytime soon,” Keith finally said. “Not unless something drastic changes soon.” He nodded to Allura.

“I have been doing some research.” Allura began. “If there is a clone that does not have a unique or viable consciousness, there will not be any ethical or moral questions for ‘implanting’ you into that physical shell. Viable is being defined as ‘stable outside of growth tanks.’ This is not an unknown process for Alteans, but once again, I find that I am limited in the available knowledge of my people’s alchemy. From what I have found, this was a method used in extreme circumstances that sound similar to yours, just . . . in a more controlled environment. I just . . . don’t know _enough_ and I don’t know where to find more information.”

Shiro took this in, then nodded. “Black doesn’t think that I’m degrading any, but time moves differently here. So long as I’m not displacing anyone . . . I can get used to the idea. It won’t be easy, but . . . I can adapt to it.”

“Here’s something that I don’t know if anyone else has considered by now,” Keith added, not waiting for silence to follow Shiro’s words. He could almost feel Black’s countdown timer in the back of his head. “He’s genetically _you_ , so that means that you have say over some of what happens here. What do you want to happen with the clone?”

Shiro took a long time to think about this, and just before time ran out, he said, “Bring him to me. If he’s not me, he’ll show up separately. If he is, I’ve a feeling that there’ll be some sort of overlap, and I might end up called back to that body. That’s about what I’m theorizing, anyway.”

With almost an audible pop, the Paladins were back in the Nest, and it was morning. Several groans emitted out from under pillows by the humans while Allura dragged herself up to the door. Kolivan stood on the other side with a serious look upon his face. “Princess, when you and your cohort are ready, Ulaz and Coran have updates about the clone.”

~*~

When Shiro . . . opened . . .

_I’m not Shiro._

He clenched his eyes shut at the first brush of air across his face, but they snapped open at the soft touch to the back of his left hand. Keith, and only Keith, stood before him. And Shiro-not-Shiro tried to flinch away from the hand that slid into his own, drawing him out of the pod. “What are you doing? I’m-I’m a _threat_ , Keith.”

“Not anymore. Not without the arm. We’ve done a thorough check to make sure that Haggar didn’t leave any surprises behind, and the pod removed all Galra tech from your body, including the remains of the Galra arm.”

“Why am I awake? I’m . . . I’m not Shiro.”

“We know. But we agreed that it was unfair to you to be isolated from the people you share a soulmate bond with. You _aren’t_ Shiro, but you have a bunch of his memories, and you have a unique consciousness, despite having identical quintessence signatures.”

“How do you know that? How long have I been under?”

“Only two days. And I’m not the best person to explain. Come on, we’re going to my Lion’s hangar.”

Keith’s Lion. 

Keith was the Black Paladin again.

The strong hand within his own squeezed firmly, reassuringly. “You’re not unwelcome, you know. But ease the fuck off of Lance, and start by apologizing and changing how you’re treating him.”

“I’m so sorry. I will. I-I don’t know _why_ I was pressed to be so awful to everyone.”

“I have some suspicions.” And that was all that Keith would say. When they entered Black’s cockpit, the clone stopped dead at the sight of the big cat sitting patiently behind the chair, a flip of the tip of her tail the only indication that she had been waiting for them. Keith smiled. “Well, hi there, Beautiful.”

She bumped their hands apart, shoving her head up under not-Shiro’s palm to demand scritches, drowning him in an approving purr. Without realizing it, he had been maneuvered to sit on the ground at Keith’s feet, shoulders slotting between his knees and Black laying on his legs and pressing up against his chest for chin scritches. Keith’s hand dragged through the long locks.

“Deep breath in.”

Obeying immediately, he panicked until he felt Keith’s hands on either side of his face, guiding his gaze down, down, down, out of the stars, down into twin nebulas. He let his breath out and felt that he was held by a second person. Keith chuckled. “Yeah, first time in this plane gets a little fucky for the head, huh?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Here’s why we know you’re unique from Shiro.” He jerked his chin over the clone’s right shoulder.

Turning to look, afraid of what he’d see, the clone didn’t expect Shiro to be _right there_ , that had his flesh arm around identically-broad shoulders. “Hey, keep breathing. I’m not mad at you for anything.”

“I just . . .”

“You need a name, first. And we don’t have much time here, just needed to carve out enough to either have us meet, or for us to find out that we’re really the same person,” Shiro interrupted, arm pulling his . . . what was he? Clone? Twin? There was some connection, but no real _draw_ to the identity or body that he knew that the consciousness resided in. He found that he settled a little with the gentle touch. “You know, I always wanted a younger twin when I was growing up.”

Coughing a laugh, the clone nodded, blushing. “I . . . I know. I . . . _you_ wanted to call him Ryou. I still like the name a lot.”

“Then it’s yours. Don’t fuck this up with our soulmates.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Keith’s hands rested on either side of Ryou’s face and he exhaled, opening his eyes and looking up at Keith’s smile. “Black relayed that to the other Lions. Welcome home, Ryou.”

~*~

The very first thing that Ryou did was seek out Lance and quietly, heartily apologize. Blue eyes didn’t thaw entirely, but they did soften. “I’m going to need time. I do forgive you, Ryou. You had some strange shit going on, but that’s seriously some Shirogane family trait.”

Huffing a soft laugh, Ryou smiled a little bashfully. “Tell me about it.” 

“Walk with me?” Lance held his right hand out. “I’m okay being friendly with you, and you know that I’m big about physical touch and don’t mind offering platonic physical touch. And I think that you might need more touch, but you’re afraid of it for several reasons.”

Ryou’s blush gave him away, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah. But . . . this is about you right now. I fucked up and I want to make things right.”

“Yeah, but dwelling on that isn’t going to help you move forward, is it?” Lance blinked. “Have you ever gone swimming? Oh my god, _wait_!” His face lit up. “ _You_ haven’t done a lot of things, despite remembering them! Oh my god . . . this is going to be _great!_ C’mon!”

Dragged through the halls by the person he’d hurt the most, Ryou ended up in the kitchens, tucked to one side while Hunk and Lance danced around each other to create a lunch made of several small plates of food for Ryou to try. Ulaz slunk in, looking like he had just gotten a dressing-down of epic proportions. Waving to everyone and smiling a greeting to Ryou, he caught a smoothie pouch that Hunk tossed to him and slouched in one of the chairs with a datapad. And that was just the start of lunch. Keith hauled Pidge in, Allura and Kolivan arrived together while still talking political strategies, and even some of the Blades ambled in to try some human-style cooking. Seeing the Galra join in and even for one of them to start cooking beside Hunk helped Ryou begin to understand why he felt the aversion so strongly.

Keith pulled out the alien hot sauce and Shir- _Ryou_ almost snorted his soup at the collective shudder that traveled down the table along every Galra spine. Apparently, spicy food wasn’t their forte. But he remembered how much Keith _adored_ spicy food back home. He nodded to Keith’s offer of sharing it, adding a little of the horseradish-like-based sauce to a slightly-bland forkful of something that tasted vaguely like mac’n’cheese.

“Nooo, why did you do that,” Hunk whined.

But Ryou moaned happily around the flavor. Setting up a second fork, he held it out for Hunk to try. Who, gamely, did. Then blinked, stared at the fork and sighed with a happy smile. “Yeah. Yeah, you were right about that. Wow, that’s good. What the _hell_ , this tastes like buffalo chicken dip, now.”

Keith grinned and pushed his fork across the table for Ryou to load up.

~*~

Ryou followed Keith into the Black Lion’s hangar, this time with less trepidation. They had been meeting with Shiro as a team on a weekly basis for the last three months, and Ryou and Keith have been making extra “trips” halfway through the week if there weren’t any battles. Lotor had been pressing them extra hard, and they were coming up on a difficult mission that had Keith keeping his mouth closed.

Things had been getting better across the board with the other . . . with _his_ Soulmates while Allura and Coran finalized his new prosthetic, which looked identical to his old one. Allura was a great help with coming to terms with the fact that he was a clone, and helped him find parts about his identity that were not _Shiro_. Pidge would steal him away for late-night snuggles when they both had insomnia so he could be their “rubber duck” to talk at when code problems happened. Hunk pulled him in on cooking, which was something he hadn’t realized that he liked or could be good at. Apparently Shiro was a good cook, but Ryou didn’t remember any of the recipes that Shiro knew, so everything was new and fun. Lance flirted and then would get flustered when Ryou flirted back in ways that Shiro would have been flustered by.

Shockingly, Keith was the most tender with him. Ryou would weep and rage _I’m not Shiro why do you love me so much?!_

And Keith would wait it out, then when Ryou was calm again, would reply. _Just because you’re not Shiro doesn’t mean that you’re not my soulmate and you’re not someone who I can’t love, too._ The emotional rollercoaster ride was horrific.

But something felt different about this mid-week check-in with Shiro.

Once on the Astral Plane, once embraced by a man he was learning to consider as his older brother, Ryou found out.

“The Blade need me for a few more missions. Kolivan was _very_ insistent that I was the right one for the job, but was giving me shit about not letting my emotions get in the way.” Keith sighed. “I don’t know what it means, but I _do_ know that it’ll mean that we need Ryou to play as being _you_ , Shiro. This might take a few months.”

“Black won’t listen to me,” Ryou immediately protested.

The cat herself snorted. “I will _listen_ , cub, but that doesn’t mean that I will _obey_.”

“It’s a conversation. I learned the hard way.” Shiro looked physically pained to admit to the fact that he had been an ass to the sentient ship.

Ryou winced. “I remember that.”

Keith looked to Black and Shiro. “Can you two work in tandem to help create the appearance that ‘Shiro’ is fully back in the Black Lion? And Ryou, will you be okay with this?”

Black considered what her third Paladin was asking her to do. She was a creature of yes or no, never maybes. She had to be. She was decisive and firm, commanding. She had a mind for strategy and tactics. She hadn’t considered this angle. Lotor had been harassing them pretty solidly recently.

Shiro answered first. “I’ve no problem with Ryou pretending to be me. If we have to reveal ourselves as two people later, we can handle that when it comes.”

The long-haired man nodded softly. “I’ll try to act like you in public.”

“You don’t have to, actually. It might also work in our favor if you keep developing your own personality as you have. Then, when we can _prove_ that it’s been two of us for a while, it’ll be easier for folks to see us as separate people.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Keith replied, eyes distant as he worked things out. “Can you work with this, though?”

“Yes,” Black replied. “Shiro will be my main connection to quintessence, but Ryou also has a significant amount that will help as well, which has been slowly growing over time. We will be fine, so long as he has the bayard.”

The automatic reassurance made Keith’s shoulders drop and he sighed. “I feel like I’m abandoning you.”

“You’re not,” Shiro replied. “This is _war_. We have to make hard decisions and we have to find ways to work around our limitations. We have seven paladins and five lions; we can be flexible about our configuration.” He pulled Keith in for a hard kiss. “Don’t be stupid out there, though. It’d destroy me if you were killed.”

Keith coughed a sob, curling into Shiro’s embrace as his emotions overwhelmed him. Black pressed against their legs, and Ryou stood a little back, wanting to give them space. But Shiro gestured for him to get closer, and once he was in grabbing range, he was tugged to plaster himself up against Keith’s back, held there with Shiro’s hand around his waist. When everyone was ready, it was hard to peel themselves away from each other. Shiro kissed Keith firmly. “You know, if you and Ryou want to get cozy, I won’t be offended.”

“Nope,” Ryou replied before Keith could. “I am _so_ not there with everyone yet. I . . . honestly? I don’t know if all of me works, and right now, I’m okay with that. I just don’t . . . want sex? At least right now, it would feel really awkward. But I haven’t felt anything sexual towards anyone in our cohort.”

Keith rubbed the last of his tears away. “Talk to Pidge about sex drives and sexual orientations?”

“I have been. I’m okay like this, Shiro. I promise. I think that they found the brother in _you_ that they thought wanted, only in _me_. So they may start opening up to you as a romantic partner, while I’m the platonic one.”

“Look, I’m not about to shy away from an embarrassing discussion. If you _do_ need sex, even with yourself (and I know that self-pleasure is self-care), don’t feel like you _can’t_. I’ve never been in your body; it’s _yours_. I’m not going to judge you for what you do to it.” Shiro’s voice was firm.

And there it was.

Keith blinked. “Huh. That explains a lot.”

Shiro and Black were grinning as Ryou blushed and then grinned back. “I didn’t realize that I needed permission, or that I needed to hear that. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** I’m setting up the next few chapters now, but I want to say a hearty thank you to everyone who has been commenting and inspiring me to continue this fic. I’ve a sweet spot for Ryou, and I want to write more of his struggles and successes, but now we have to change focus a little. I’m trying hard not to let this be Keith-centric, but it’s really freaking hard because he’s E V E R Y W H E R E in the show._
> 
> _Coming up next: How does Lotor fit into this whole mess of an AU?_


	23. Chapter 23

It had taken two hours for everyone’s emotions to finally start to settle after Naxzela. Unsurprisingly, Keith was having the hardest time, since it was clear that he was doing doubletime with Voltron and the Blades and hadn’t had a chance to decompress recently. Lance had finally admitted it out loud that most of them were probably struggling through PTSD, and this recent battle hadn’t done anything to help lighten the severity of the condition. But after everything, it was Ryou who gathered Keith together long enough that they could go and sleep in the Black Lion together. This time, Allura went with them, marking the first night that Ryou had been comfortable with more than one person sleeping around him.

Hunk and Pidge were settled down, and Lance gently resisted Hunk’s want to keep him close. Of all of them, Lance hadn’t had it as bad today, and he was happy to take care of everyone the way that they normally would be taking care of _him_. He was glad to help carry bedding to the back of Black’s cockpit, happy to tuck Pidge in between Hunk and Matt with a kiss to their forehead. He’d checked on Coran and found the man asleep, cuddled up in an engineer’s bunk. So that left the Blade and himself as the few remaining awake.

He found himself standing beside Kolivan, watching a feed of the solitary cell that Lotor was confined within. Ulaz limped up to them, leaning heavily upon a cane with his knee kept straight in a brace. He was refusing time in the pods until he was sure that everyone was settled and wouldn’t need his help as a trained medic. “How’s the cub?”

“Sleeping by now, I hope.” Lance sighed, internally amused that he hadn’t even paused to consider who they were referencing. “Kolivan, what kind of missions are you sending him on? Keith’s fucking _drained_.”

“Information gathering not on the front lines, but missions where his size and agility are his strengths to keep from being seen.” He hated it. He was a leader by necessity, but . . . he was _tired_. “Your suspicion that he has seen some disturbing things is correct. I was informed by Hunk that he had harbored suicidal tenancies in the past, and I have tried to keep him from places where he could be tempted. This . . . was unexpected. He was willing to give his life so that his family would live.”

Lance was quiet for a long while. Lotor was still in his cell, eyes focused either on the wall in front of him or somewhere else entirely. And oh, Lance _burned_ with a need to bruise that face for all that he’d done to them before scrambling around to try to be _saved_ by them. Amnesty. There was something ironically insincere about his plea, something that felt _off_ in a way that Lance just couldn’t figure out. But Keith was warily accepting the surrender, if not full amnesty rights.

Ulaz’s voice was gentle. “You should be resting, too.”

“Yeah, I know.” But he was unable to consider the possibility of settling himself after such a shitshow. Keith nearly died. Ryou was just as steady as Shiro in a crisis, which everyone was thankful for, but . . . this was bad. Just so very, very bad. “I’m not ready to settle down yet. I’ve a feeling we might have some time to catch our breaths after this one.”

“I had been contemplating the same thing,” Kolivan murmured. He sighed gustily, determined not to fidget in front of Lance. “Lotor’s willingness to be ‘captured’ is out of line with what we know of his personality, but it is enough of a move to make the Galra Empire take stock of the situation.”

“Do you think that he’s going to cooperate?” Ulaz asked softly. “He may expect torture as a viable method of extracting information.”

“I’m going to be more concerned if he _does_ cooperate.” Lance rested on his left foot, right foot behind him and the toe of his boot tapping away at the ground behind him in a nervous movement. “It means that once again, we’re just part of a plan to advance his _own_ motives.”

~*~

Lotor was too perfect. Too poised. The Galra Prince treaded the dangerous water between “confident” and “arrogant.” And Lance knew it and hated that he couldn’t do anything about it. So he was trying to distract himself by working on target practice. The door slid open and closed behind where he crouched behind cover, his gaze in the strange fixed-yet-unfocused that helped him see movement faster. The footfalls were almost like Shiro’s . . .

“End program,” Lance ordered, but he didn’t put away his bayard. “Hey, Ryou.”

The long-haired man took a seat beside Lance behind the cover, which, thankfully, was also out of sight of the door. “I’m hiding.”

“From?”

“Coran. He’s scan-happy right now. And I don’t really know what the bayard can do for me.” He looked a little bashfully down at the Black Paladin armor that he wore, the right arm adjusted to account for the fact that he hadn’t yet received the updated prosthetic.

Lance rolled this through his head for a moment before he nodded once to himself. “I know that you know how Shiro likes to fight. Is that how you like to do things?”

“Ugh, _no_. He’s faster at seeing the bigger picture than I am and choosing actions appropriate to the situation.”

“Could you see yourself providing cover fire beside Hunk?”

Ryou took a moment to consider this, and finally, he shook his head, his voice soft. “I was literally created to _be_ a weapon . . .”

Lance’s gloved fingertips brushed over the edge of the scar across Ryou’s nose, then down the strong profile. “I think I know how to help us get good again. It . . . means that I have to trust you, and even knowing you and everything that we do now, that is fucking _scary_. But . . . I don’t have someone to cover my position as sniper. I need a spotter. Pure support, no direct engagement unless it’s last-resort defense.”

Ryou’s breath caught and he looked down at his borrowed bayard. He wouldn’t need both arms for that. He’d be _useful_. He grinned at Lance, wild and fierce. “Start the program up, but be easy on me. I have an idea.”

~*~

Pidge couldn’t believe their eyes, and they knew that Hunk couldn’t, either. Keith and Allura were cuddled close to each other off to one side, also watching their fellow Paladins just _annihilate_ the sniper levels one by one, changing positions with every shot.

Lance’s bayard-rifle hadn’t changed shape, but what Ryou was sporting as his bayard’s form was astonishing.

It became limbs and an enhanced helmet.

Limbs. Three, to be exact.

He had a functional right arm, which locked into place and became a perfectly still mount for Lance’s rifle as Ryou laid half-draped over Lance’s right side, left arm curled too-casually-to-be-casual around Lance’s waist.

Wings protected the duo _and_ moved them from position to position with easy grace. Ryou moved like he had been born with the appendages, the perfect assist for Lance, left hand tapping signals on Lance’s left elbow before each motion.

Keith smiled broadly. He was starting to love Ryou in his own way, entirely separate from the way that he loved Shiro, and it was gentler. Though, it was no less fervent. Same intensity, different color and shape. “I like that.”

“It’s very him,” Allura agreed. When the two finished the last level of the block, they stopped, stared at each other, and whooped loud enough to be heard up in the control room. Allura smiled softly. “I think Ryou is realizing that he does have a unique place with us.” She sobered. “We should all discuss what to do with Lotor.”

“I agree. Once we’re on the same page, let’s get Shiro’s input.” Hunk activated the microphone. “You guys looked so badass! It’s lunchtime, so cool down a bit and we gotta do some debriefing and strategy meetings.”

“Thank you for not saying, ‘talk about a few things!’” Ryou called up, smiling up at his wings and arm before deactivating the bayard and letting it holster itself in his armor. Lance slotted himself up against Ryou’s right side, reaching up to press their sweaty cheeks together and making the taller man splutter at how gross it was before rubbing his sweaty forehead against Lance’s neck in retaliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** This is barely edited. I know that this chapter has come across like snapshots rather than anything progressing plot. I didn’t want to deal with the whole Naxcela thing, and there’s a lot of plot that I want to hit but I also don’t really know how to best proceed. Compounding my writer’s block is that I’ve had a lot of awful bullshit hit the fan in my personal life in the form of someone not respecting my boundaries and respecting that I need time away from their influence and to consider if I even want them in my life going forward._
> 
> _In a very real way, my world has been crumbling because this was a foundational relationship in my life. Was. The relationship is not what it had been, and I’m forced to question if I ever really was in a healthy relationship with this person._
> 
> _To many in the LGBTQIA+ and ren faire communities, supportive blood-related family is few and far between. It is the hardest thing in the world sometimes to recognize that the chosen family, the tribe you resonate with, is closer to you and healthier for you than some folks you share genetics with. Thanks to my bandmates and my rennie fam, I know that even on my worst days, they will continue to support me until I can stand on my own again._
> 
> _Don’t give up if you feel alone; the hardest, most painful chapters in the story of your life always have the bright spark of a friend who is willing to face your shadows with you and help you light your own spark._


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating change!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** Thank you to everyone who has offered support. Part of what makes trauma so very difficult to work with for me is that I often feel unreliable while I’m trying to heal myself. Granted, that’s a very real emotion to feel; I also know it’s misplaced that I should feel that I owe my readers more chapters. My mind is often so disorganized, that I feel like I’ve lost more than I should have of the stories yet unwritten. Even this story has changed so incredibly since I started writing it in October of last year._
> 
> _I had initially wanted this to be Pidge-centric, but it’s really turned out to be Keith-centric in a way. And there’s so much that I want to explore, but I fear that it’ll push this fic out even further. It’s taken several weeks to come to terms that it’s not necessarily about me telling the story of one person, but more following one person’s acceptance of themselves before picking up the next person’s. Keith may take some time to accept himself. But it looks like he’s gotta remain the focus for a little while. Get ready, because it’s going to cause a hell of a lot of chaos._
> 
> _Upped the rating. Thought I’d already done that, but heeeyyy. There’s reason for it to be a decent M this chapter. Skip the first scene if you don’t want to read sensuality . . . or maybe reread it a few times. ;)_

Keith stared down at the bayard in his right hand and his blade in his left. All his life, he had been human, with human expectations and dreams. He had wanted to reach the stars. That had been it. And now that he knew that he was _from_ the stars . . .

Lance and Hunk settled down on either side of him, Lance’s arm wrapping around his waist, Hunk’s arm heavy and welcome across his shoulders. “Ryou . . . doesn’t want to take Shiro’s place, but . . . I can’t . . . Black and I know that I’m divided.”

“Keith?” Lance prompted softly, leaning in to nose gently against one pale cheek. “Tell us what you want to tell us.”

“I need to be with the Blade for a while.”

Hunk nodded. “Okay.”

Lance was also nodding, entirely unshocked. “Yeah.”

“But—”

Lance squeezed Keith closer, turning his head and kissing him firmly. The kiss turned gentle by stages, Hunk’s hands running along them both, steadily along Keith’s back and firmly up Lance’s thigh on occasion. His voice was a raspy shadow against Keith’s ear. “Family is important. Soulmates are just as important, but you’ve had us longer than you’ve had the Blade— _Oh god, Lance, make him make that noise again_.”

Lance had bitten the other side of Keith’s neck hard enough to make the man’s hands tremble. “Wanna put the weapons down and engage us in some _hand-to-hand_ , Team Leader?”

Hunk and Keith were distracted long enough with their giggling at the bad line for Lance to gently and reverently take Keith’s weapons and place them on his side table. “You brood too much and Hunk and I thought you might have been considering working more with the Blades.” Dragging his nose along an equally-sharp jawline, Lance hissed, “And I, _good sir_ , would have been _most_ put-out if I didn’t get a chance to put out while you were still here full-time.”

Hunk growled low in Keith’s other ear, “You have no idea how much I can’t wait to bury myself in you until you’re shaking.” He resisted against Keith’s sharp buck, knowing that as much as Keith and Lance loved the switching, Keith _loved_ it when Hunk absolutely topped him. “But I’ll wait. I wanna see you and Lance figure out who is bottoming first.”

Lance bit Keith’s ear and the older man whimpered.

Hunk’s breath left him. “Woah.”

And Keith reached up, pulling Lance over by his collar and hissing, “You can top, but I wanna be in you tonight.”

“Hot. Dangerous. Absolutely happening. Can I tie your hands up?”

“Not tonight. Maybe . . .” He stalled, leaning in to suck a bruise right beneath Lance’s left ear, making the Red Lion’s paladin moan almost non-stop. “I wouldn’t mind a blindfold tonight.”

Hunk’s hands began unbuttoning pants and sliding off spare layers, taking care with each article of clothing. Keith paused when his shirt came off before his bike gloves, and when he held his hands up, he realized that neither Hunk nor Lance had ever taken them off of him before. He usually did that himself . . .

“Are you sure?” Lance asked softly. “I think I’ve only seen you and Shiro take these off.”

“Please?”

Hunk paused Lance’s hands with one of his own, his voice urgent. “Is this symbolic for you?”

Keith nodded silently.

“Do you want to talk about why right now?”

“No. Please.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Mullet,” Lance whispered, voice warm and hand gentle as it combed through hair that was much more tamed and nourished than it had been in the past. His left hand curled into Keith’s left, while Hunk’s hands massaged Keith’s right hand between them. “Just let me know so that I can get this off you so you can start preparing me, yeah?”

If there was one thing (among the many) that Keith absolutely adored about Lance, it was the needy noises he made during foreplay.

He really shouldn’t have worried so hard about the rest of his Soulmates accepting his Galra genitalia like Shiro said.

As soon as cool air hit his right palm, Hunk’s own right hand slid under his boxers and teased the almost-entirely-hidden slit for the damned penile pouch that had stymied himself for _his whole goddamn life_ , Keith’s head fell back on one broad shoulder with a sighed groan.

Lance’s hands weren’t far behind and then the race was on.

~*~

Pidge blinked at the bruise that blossomed on the side of Ryou’s neck, a second starting up closer to his shoulder on the opposite side. They blinked twice, then once more, and sighed. “You sure you don’t wanna go and crash their party?”

“I’m good.”

“Cool. You sure you don’t want to use it as a way of escaping talking with dad?”

Ryou sighed, shoulders dropping. And he shook his head. “He’s leaving in a couple days, and he deserves to know that I’m not his pilot. I think he suspects.”

“He might. Or he might just think that being a prisoner of war was enough trauma to change Shiro.” Pidge took Ryou’s hand, and he let them lead him to where Sam was residing while they were taking some well-deserved recovery time on Olkarion.

Sam absently beckoned them in while finishing some notes, then paused and saved his work the moment the door closed. “Katie, Shiro!”

And Ryou broke, looking away.

Sam’s breath caught, and he whispered, “Oh.” He blinked twice and walked over, turning the young man’s face towards him, studying the crying eyes with compassion and acceptance. “Oh, kid. You’re not Shiro after all, are you?” He brushed a tear away with his thumb. “But you’ve got my kid’s approval and support, which is more than enough to convince me that you’re truly something special.” He caught Ryou as the tears fell harder and the larger man’s knees weakened.

A small hand rested on one of his, and Sam looked down at his kiddo, smiling softly. He followed their point over to the couch in his workroom, and he nodded, slowly guiding this distressed young man closer, murmuring softly, reassuring this Shiro-lookalike in a way that he’d never dare speak to Shiro himself.

And Katie-bird knew it, too, by their soft smile.

So he sat not-Shiro down, took a seat to his right, and pulled him close to his left shoulder while Pidge sat cross-legged on the ground. “So. You have some of Shiro’s memories, or you wouldn’t have been able to act like him.”

“I remember a lot about you and Colleen and . . . and it’s _all a lie_.”

“What lie would that be? This is just something we as humans have never come up against before.” Sam brushed a few strays of the young man’s hair away from his damp face. “And well, it means that we already have a good starting point and know that we’re capable of a good friendship. How about we start with your name?”

“Ryou.”

“Like a dragon? I like it.”

“I don’t know if I want to use the kanji for ‘dragon,’ honestly,” Ryou whispered, hoarse. He could feel Sam adjust his hold around him, and settled in a little more, feeling the tension start to drain from his body into the couch.

Sam released a soft breath. “I think that whatever way you choose to write your name, it’ll be the right choice. But I’m also a native English speaker, and I’m certainly not the right person to figure out how to best spell a name.”

“Shiro’s family is gonna be so mad . . .”

“At you? For not having control of your own creation? Hardly. Considering that they just got another amazing family member who is a damn fine fighter and support for Lance? However it happened, I’m pretty sure that they’ll be happy to add you into their family tree. Your grandmother is a scary matriarch, I’m glad that she likes me, and she did tell me once that she wished that there had been more grandchildren for her to spoil. I think she’d be very happy to hear a message from you when I go back to Earth.”

“She’s not my . . . how _can_ she be my . . .”

“Well, genetics for certain, unless those were altered?”

“Coran says they were, and he was surprised by that,” Ryou whispered. “He got rid of the disease.”

Sam froze and then released a deep breath, mind curiously blank as it processed this new information. “They eradicated Shiro’s disease . . . _and_ you have Galra genes spliced in?”

“A few. Not enough to do more than make me a little stronger.”

“Oh. Oh _fuck_.” Sam caught himself, then hugged Ryou tighter. “I’m glad you don’t have Shiro’s health conditions, but I am very concerned with the presence of Galra genes. We need to gather everyone; this might change the very course of this rebellion.”

The fact that Sam swore and the urgency with his message made the mental scarring of having to interrupt Hunk, Keith, and Lance worth Pidge’s time.

Because once again, Coran had unlocked a secret.

This time, he had _no idea_ what he had unlocked.

The soulmates, Coran, and Sam met in the Castle, locking down the room both physically and digitally. Sam, used to command, started as soon as Pidge gave him the thumb’s up that they were secure. “Coran, you’ve had some surprising fields of study, and Ryou said that you found a Galra tags in his DNA.”

A cacophany of questions about the fact that Ryou revealed himself stilled the moment there was a knock on the door. Keith stalked over, not subtle about having his blade unsheathed and awake in his hand as he checked to see who it is. “Kolivan. Ulaz is running up, too.”

“Let him in.”

“What is happening?” Kolivan asked with a frown. “Is there an another emergency?”

“What do you mean, _another emergency_?” Allura demanded. 

“Lotor’s ship just left atmo, only registered it on our listening post behind another moon,” Ulaz replied, out of breath. “I believe he is going to the Kral Zera.”

Ryou sighed and rubbed at his face. “Oh, that’s going to be a disaster. Do we want him as Emperor?”

“Do we want a presence there?” Keith asked, “More importantly, do we want to show that we support him? I know we all disagreed on a lot of things about him going for that.” He bit his lip for a moment before sighing. “Lance, Ryou, Hunk. Do any of you see him _not_ reaching out to the Voltron Coalition?”

Lance replied with conviction. “He needs our support because he has very few resources outside of what he’ll own when he win.”

“So we’re certain that he’ll win?” Pidge asked, their voice skeptical. “There’s a lotta nasty Generals still alive that want him dead. Sendak included.”

“We should avoid that planet all together.” Lance shook his head. “Monitor it, sure, but, not have Voltron be a presence there.” He grinned wryly. “Perfect timing, huh, Keith?”

Kolivan looked surprised. “You’ve decided?”

Sighing, Keith shoved his hands into his pockets. “I grew up human. I need to know more about my Galra side, and—”

“And nothing,” Sam interrupted firmly, reaching over to pull Keith into a firm hug. “You’re my son just as much as Matt is, you know this. You need to go find out more about yourself from the Blades, and _that_ is honestly something I’m a little miffed I’ll be missing out on.” He looked over Keith’s head, eyes flashing. “Kolivan, I knew Keith’s father only briefly. I didn’t know he was Keith’s dad until Keith became Pidge’s friend, now my son by their bond. So you _damn well_ take care of _my boy_ while he’s under _your_ command.”

Keith cried harder.

And Kolivan sighed deeply. He never had a chance against the kit’s human family. Smiling, he rested his left hand on Keith’s head, his right on Sam’s left shoulder, his non-dominant arm. It was symbolic to show a weakness, should the oath be broken. Kolivan revealed his heart to the human. “As if he were my own blood from my fathers, I will treat this kit as my son for as long as he wishes to walk in my shadow. He will be protected as much as feuds allow, educated as much as his mind can contain, and taught how to fight as if I were Death herself calling for him.”

Ulaz chirped in shock and blushed at the adolescent noise that had escaped him with his shock. That was _not_ a standard or even a _modern_ oath. _Coran_ looked shocked, and it was his whisper that broke the silence. “You will die to protect him.”

“Should the need arise.”

“Could people please just _stop_ dying, though? Just for a little while?” Keith croaked, somehow finding something funny about that. Emotions were wild. He pulled away from Sam’s shoulder reluctantly and looked up at Kolivan.

“Dying is very low on my to-do list.”

“Keep it that way.”

“Gladly.”

“So.” Keith rubbed at his face with one hand, the other clutched within Sam’s for a while longer. He was going to miss Pidge’s dad. “I don’t know if my wishes should be taken into consideration for how I’d proceed, since I’ll be passing Black over to you, Ryou.”

Ryou looked to Lance, then spread his hand off to the left. “Might as well hear about what you’re thinking. Couldn’t hurt.”

“Later. First, the matter of cloning.” Kolivan was thankful that he had information available for this. “The Galra have been attempting cloning experiments for centuries to try to create more soldiers. That’s why sentinels are utilized so widely among the Empire. They can be built. With that in mind, the problem that arose is that unlike with humans . . . the quintessence doesn’t replicate well, if at all.”

Hunk frowned, not liking the sound of that. “So . . . you have a living husk.”

“Of a sort. It’s unusual to see results like Kuro, who has access to the same impressive levels of quintessence that Shiro has, which gives him the capability to pilot the Black Lion.” He paused for breath. “It was once a widely-used medical practice to grow a clone or cloned organ if there was a need for such things. The implanted organ would gradually absorb the innate quintessence from the Galra it was intended for, and knit itself in such as if it were new again. Our understanding of quintessence only grew with Altea’s allegiance between Alfor and Zarkon.” Kolivan paused to wet his lips. “When Ryou showed that he not only had a separate sentience, _but also_ was animated and moved and thought and could pass for Shiro in _all ways_. . .”

“Haggar,” Ryou growled.

“Haggar would have been _thrilled_ with this discovery, yes,” Ulaz snarled in return, just as disgusted. “But this would only harm her standing with the purists. She could create animated troops, but it would be very difficult to see ”

“Not unless she found a way to disguise it. But I don’t know how that could work,” Allura added, hands on hips and eyes focused somewhere beyond the floor. “I just don’t know.”

“So we have to keep an eye on the Kral Zera, and . . . what? Go after the cloning facility? Ryou said that there shouldn’t be any other active clones.”

“No, not an infiltration just yet,” Ryou interrupted. “It would be too early to try that base, and it’s too far away from the nearest open backup. But as soon as we have the strait shot at it, Shiro’s in agreement that we should curbstomp the motherfuckers.”

Sam blinked. “Shiro _is_ alive, then?”

“How did you _both_ fuck up that explanation?” Hunk laughed while Allura just threw her hands up in the air. “Okay, so. Technical explanation for you, Sam: Shiro’s alive in the Black Lion because space magic. And we can talk to him, because space magic.”

Sam blinked once, then shook his head. “I want to talk to Shiro before we part ways. If it’s possible. I’ll remain in contact as long as I can, but we all know that the moment that I hit atmo for Earth, I won’t have access to any of my instrumentation or documentation. The Garrison will confiscate everything.”

“So don’t have it on the ship when you hit atmo, hide it somewhere that it can be remotely retrieved,” Matt suggested. He’d done plenty of those kinds of maneuvers before with the rebels he worked with.

Sam shook his head. “Too risky, someone else might find it.”

Keith exhaled, eyes bright and a sneaky grin edging around his face. “I have an idea. Leader, I have the perfect hiding spot for a listening station, and _nobody_ would be able to sneak up on it. And . . . if I’m right . . . it’s where Mom hid when she was on Earth.”

Five identical, feral grins gracing the faces of the young humans really should have worried Kolivan.

He found himself grinning back. “I may approve of this plan. But we have four subjects that all must be discussed further: Lotor and the Kral Zera, Samuel returning to Earth, monitoring the clone facility, and Keith’s return to the Blade for a time.”

Coran nodded solemnly. “I’ll call for refreshments; we’re going to be here a while, I’m afraid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** There was a point where I tried to write the reunion between the Holts. I couldn’t do it. I miss Dad too much, and I’ll never see him again in this lifetime. As much as I wanted them to have that moment, I’m not at a place where I can write that yet. It’s started, and it may make an appearance in the future as a companion fic._
> 
> _That said, I hope that you liked the first half of this chapter if sensuality is your thing. I know that I sure enjoyed writing it._


	25. Chapter 25

Samuel Holt hated goodbyes. He was _terrible_ at them, and Colleen always gave him shit about it. He knew that his kids, young in age but prematurely matured to adulthood with the seriousness of their individual callings, would and could get their way home when they were able to. Earth was just going to be a hell of a lot less interesting without them there, and he knew it.

So he sat with his Katiebird one last time, Matt already having had to leave to help organize another rescue mission for some prisoners of war a few sectors over. And he sighed heavily. “Your mother would be very, very proud of you, and she’d be pissed that she wasn’t able to see some of the things that we’ve seen.”

“Once it’s peaceful, I want to bring you both around to some of the most amazing planets,” they replied, smiling and hopeful. They’d make sure of the peace, and Sam knew it. But they looked away, smile going distant. “I just hope that we can bring an end to this all _soon_. I miss home.”

Sam smiled and ran his hand through his child’s hair. “I understand that. Home isn’t going to be the same without you both, but I’ll be glad to have Ulaz nearby if I need him. I just worry that with him being so Galra in nature that if seen, he may be accused of being a spy for an invasion.” He leaned in and kissed Pidge’s forehead. “But. I have a happier topic for you before we go. And it’s one that your mother and I already talked about.”

“How?” Pidge laughed. “Nothing can get to Earth from here!”

“Goose. I spoke with her before _Kerberos_ , back when you still had long hair.” He smiled softly. “And I have also spoken to the rest of your pride of lions, and some will be able to assist you a little better than others.”

Pidge blinked, frowning. “Dad?”

“This morning, I gave my parental consent to Coran to begin your transition process, should you decide to go through with it while you continue to fight with the Voltron Coalition. It’s in writing, with my thumbprint and retinal scan on file as your biological parent. Nobody can tell you no at this point.” He wiped the shocked tears away from hazel eyes, his own gaze misting up. “You might still be very young to me, my Katie, but you have always been older than your years, and that frightened me until I saw _why_ the universe needed you to be who you are. And that is a multifaceted person who I am _proud_ to have helped create and raise with your mother.”

The only reason that there was silence as Pidge’s reply was because they had begun weeping into their father’s chest.

“And from what Coran told me, he’s already helped you with some safe binding techniques and was still researching for you when he can.” He brushed his hand through short, messy waves. “Last time that we all talked with your therapist, you didn’t want to transition medically; has that changed?”

“I-I . . . yes. I just want top surgery.”

Sam made room, and Pidge curled into his lap, never as small as they once were, but trying very hard to be. “Can I ask you to consider that surgery later?”

A pinched whine was cut off before Pidge could catch it entirely. “I want them _gone_.”

“I know. And I want your comfort, so I want that for you too.”

Swallowing thickly, Pidge coughed to clear their throat. “Why do you want me to wait? Is it because I’m still too young?”

“Believe it or not, it’s nothing to do with your age. Look at me, darling,” Sam guided Pidge’s face up out of his chest. “Hey, those are the eyes I’ve dreamed of seeing for the last two years. My not-so-little-kid anymore, but my little fighting bird. Now, it’s nothing about your age, and everything to do with where we are right now. What would happen if you’re needed for Voltron, but you were still day two of recovery?”

“I . . . wouldn’t be able to fight.” They looked down and drew in a deep breath. “I hate that I have to think about this. I . . . Dad, I _shouldn’t have_ to think about shit like this!”

And Sam nodded, his voice soft, broken. “I hate that I have to remind you of it, because I want you to be comfortable. And you’re not, and I feel like somehow, I might have failed you as a father by having to ask you these hard questions. If we were home, if none of _this_ were going on . . .” He coughed to clear his voice. “Katie Holt, you have a sense of responsibility that cannot be shaken and I’m _so_ goddamned proud of you.”

“But . . . I can start hormones if I want to? _When_ I want to?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“And Mom was okay with this?”

“Your mother knew that you were nonbinary long before I had an inkling, and she will _lovingly_ and _scathingly_ remind me of that fact every time she’s reminded of how long it took me.” Leaning in, Sam kissed his little Paladin’s forehead again. “She would have gutted me if I came back and said that I didn’t handle things properly.”

~*~

The Kral Zera was a _shitshow_.

Keith had saved Lotor, but it was a near thing. Then Acxa had saved his life, paying him back in spades, then Voltron showed up, the other Marmora operatives having hightailed it without him . . .

He sighed, looking up at Voltron before turning and hustling to his own transport. It was _odd_ to feel them all so close, and it fucked with his concentration. Kolivan was still cursing with how botched this mission got, he could just _feel_ it. And when he got back, the team was given a _blistering_ dressing-down for several factors. The others were dismissed, and Keith stayed.

“I’m sorry, Leader.” And he _was_. Long before the impromptu adoption-of-kin, Kolivan had encouraged the use of his name over his title with Keith, soft even then. Keith used the title now out of respect, knowing that as an operative, he failed. As kin, he disappointed his mentor.

He wasn’t sure which hurt worse.

Kolivan sighed. “And yet, if you were not there, Lotor may not have lived to light the flame. You have a heart that bleeds and a head that sees ways to save as many people as possible, and that serves you well as the Black Paladin. Working as a Blade is _not_ your strength, despite your physical talents that make you a _perfect_ asset for field work.”

“Are you going to send me away?”

Blinking twice, the older Galra barked a laugh. “‘Send you away,’ Keith? Stars, no! Your skillset just means that I have had to get creative with choosing who to send on which mission. No, you’re my kit, my kin, my blade, and my brother.” A large hand reached down to squeeze Keith’s shoulder, warm and reassuring. The phrase had been said more than once in the last few months, and each time it eased a little more of that stabbing panic that blinded Keith when he thought he was going to be abandoned again. “I have a different assignment that will take a few weeks. Operative retrieval.” He turned to the screen to begin describing the mission he was sending Keith on in the morning.

If anyone had tapped into his mind from the _moment_ he had entered the battlefield, they would have had to turn down the white noise of his constant internal screaming. Seeing another operative use _his_ blade made him wonder if they were keyed only to Galra DNA, but he’d had other things to think about. _Like getting the absolute fuck outta this hellhole._ And then she just _gave over the weapon_ and he was absolutely _dumbfounded_ by her choice. “You just _handed_ the weapon over to them! You compromised this entire mission!”

“No, Keith.” And her pronunciation of his name made him pause. Most Galra tripped over his name, making it sound almost like “keet” or “keys” dropping the “th” noise because of some weird linguistic trait that had either a hard T or S at the end of a word rather than a softer noise. Kolivan had practiced hard, just as he had with every other name. He still stumbled when stressed or exhausted. But how Krolia said it, even from the first moment he had introduced himself? It was like her mouth _knew_ the sounds that English made, almost like she had said his name millions of times before. “No, I handed _them_ over to _it_.”

He stared hard at her reflection while continuing to push the little craft as fast as it could go _away_. Something about her gaze was unsettling, soft, yet sharp. He refocused. She’d answer his questions later, or she wouldn’t. There was nothing else to it that he could do except fly them the fuck outta Dodge. And when they were finally out of range, hearts still pounding, he set the autopilot towards a local star system for the dual purpose of using a gravitational slingshot and solar recharge. Dropping the pilot’s cradle back, he bit the inside of his lip, standing slowly once the chair had stopped moving.

_I left you once before . . ._

“I should give this back to you.”

He couldn’t _dare_ hope, but he had to _know_. Taking the dagger back, he settled it in its sheath at his back again. “How could you use my blade? I’ve handled other blades, and they don’t sleep or wake at my commands like this did for you.”

Krolia’s gaze didn’t waver, but he could tell that she was very, _very_ uncomfortable with this. It was an expression he’d glimpsed in mirrors on his own face, just far more subtle. “Because, Keith, it was once mine, before I left it with your father.”

He didn’t move, didn’t break her gaze. “You’re my . . . you? _You’re_ my _mother_?! How?!” And something about this was ironically hilarious, but he couldn’t laugh. “Kolivan has . . .” And he sighed explosively, throwing his hands up and stalking the few steps away that he could.

“Keith?”

Keith barked a quick roar, swinging his fist into the softest surface they had: an emergency blanket and tent kit standard for all Galra pods. “Kolivan _knew_. He _knew_ you were my mother, that you were _alive_ , and he didn’t _fucking_ tell me. He _knew_ I wanted to know why I had this blade. He _knew_. And he _lied_ to me.”

Krolia’s silence made him turn, and only when she could read his face, watch his cues, did she respond. “Did he say I was dead?”

“He said he _hoped_ you were still alive. Had reason to believe it.”

“Antok didn’t tell you who I am? That bastard has—”

“Antok’s been dead for over a year.” The young man’s voice broke over the syllables, his pain at not having the big Galra around breaking over him as if fresh and new.

This news shocked Krolia, and she stepped back, blinking quickly before supporting herself against the bulkhead. “Oh, _no_. Oh, Keith, I’m so sorry.”

“Kolivan won’t tell me how, but I think Antok saved his life.”

“It would . . . yes, that would be how he would go. Were you there?”

“Very different side of the battle; Allura won’t tell me anything, either. I don’t know if she saw anything happen, though.”

Silence dragged between them until Krolia finally shook her head. “I need to warn you that you shouldn’t take Kolivan’s . . . _omission_ of my status personally. That damned cat—”

“Wait.” An old, _old_ comment swam to the front of his mind. “Okay, so, this is gonna be a personal question, but I think that I might need to know if it, uh, if it’s going to be a _thing_ in the future. Were you and Kolivan an item once?”

Stopped dead and clearly shocked by the question, she sighed and grinned softly. “Once. A long time ago. Long before I was on Earth. I’m guessing someone said something?”

“Ulaz.”

“Oh, that gossip-whore.”

“Someone said ‘motherfucker’ and Ulaz said that was actually Kolivan.” Keith cracked a half-grin, the expression barely reaching his eyes. “I’m not going to lie, now that I get the context, Ulaz must have been _roasted_ by Kolivan once they were alone.” He turned back to glance at the viewport, checking their progress. “I _have_ to know—”

“No time for anything else. Not . . . not yet.”

There was something defeated in her tone, something that screamed _the mission comes first_ and it _ached_ through Keith as he realized that they _had_ to refocus. He _hated_ this. Grunting and running his hand over his face, he drew in a deep breath. “Fine. So do we go back to Kolivan to report?”

“No.”

And once she finished outlining the plan (one that had been in motion for almost a _decade_ if Keith was assessing the timeline properly), it was clear as day how much of his innate decision-making as a person was tied to his Galra heritage. He wasn’t happy with the idea of going into the Quantum Abyss, but there was no other choice. They’d been looking for this quintessence for so damn long, and if Krolia had the ability to find it, and they could bring the information back, then it would all be worth it.

It wasn’t until that first flashback aided by the collapse of spacetime that he wished he could go back, gulping beyond his tears to try to keep himself from wasting precious fluids.

Keith had found his mother. It was undeniable.

Unbelievable.

But for all that he had wanted to find her, wanted to _know_ her, this was not how either of them wanted this to go.

He still wouldn’t give it up for _anything_.

A feral grin split his face as he grasped her hand, letting her slingshot him closer to the space whale. She said that she’d left him once before and would never do so again. This time, though, she would have his help to make sure that they stayed together. Let hell come calling for them all; Keith would lead the charge.

He turned once his feet landed, anchoring himself and reaching his hand out for his mother’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** This was very difficult to write. I’m going through a lot in therapy having to do with my relationship with my parents. Neither were really healthy, and while I’m at peace with my relationship with my late father, there’s a lot of baggage and problems that I have had to address about my mother. There’s a lot of things that she has said and done that have caused a lot of damage as time has gone on. I’m stunted in a lot of ways because I wasn’t allowed to explore my identity; working through all that as an adult has the perk of already having life experience, but it’s exhausting._
> 
> _Thank you for your patience between updates!_


	26. Chapter 26

Atmosphere on a creature that created it for itself tasted _strange_ at first—oh. He winced. “Uh, Krolia? We might want you to stay upwind of me. My nose still isn’t galra-strong, but if _I_ can smell myself . . .”

She snorted a laugh. “Please. Your father used to take morning runs before his shower. He didn’t have a particularly _subtle_ scent.” She leaned in to take a deep breath of her son’s scent. With a smile, she straightened up, not wanting to push too far into his personal space. Blades were loners by nature, but they had nothing on some of the needs of personal space that humans had going for them. “It’s not bad. Do you want to know what you smell like?”

“So long as it’s not hot garbage, because that’s what I _feel_ like I smell like,” Keith grumbled, wincing as he was hit with another round of air that his suit was expelling, refreshing the filters automatically.

Krolia waved her hand dismissively, her smile fond. “For a young human, you may feel like you smell awful. For a Galra kit, you still have a very young, neutral scent. Is Regris still active?”

“Yeah.” That was an amazingly tactful way to ask if Regris was still alive, and he appreciated her sensitivity. He wondered if there was a tactful way to say that they didn’t have anyone waiting for them on Earth.

Krolia nodded. “The ‘kit’ smell is still faint on him. The smell fades with time, and for hybrids like yourself, the other parent species’ own natural scents can impact if someone smells like a child or an adult sooner or later. So.” She grinned suddenly and ruffled his hair, fluffing it out in clumps after it had been confined under his helmet for so long. “Don’t worry about offending my nose while we continue to figure out if we have access to drinkable water on this thing.”

The move made Keith laugh suddenly, and Krolia’s face softened as they realized that for the time being, they were both _safe_. And Keith’s breath caught. “Oh.”

Krolia leaned in to kiss his forehead. “And beyond all of that logic for you . . .” She drew in a deep breath and dropped her forehead to rest against his in a distinctly Galra display of familial affection that he _must_ have seen or picked up by now. The Blades did this to each other as siblings all the time. “Keith, you’re my _baby_. I haven’t breathed the air beside you since you were less than a year old. I haven’t held you, traded scents with you, just _watch_ you take in your world. _I don’t care_ what you smell like so long as I can be around you again. I will _never_ leave your side again, Kolivan’s missions be damned. I’ve done _more_ than he has _ever_ asked me for.” She cupped his face in her large hands, long fingers gentle. “But he gave me my son back. I might just forgive him yet.”

~*~

The moment they found water (thankfully less than an hour later), they were _shocked_ at its purity. Krolia was about to dip her hands in when Keith touched her shoulder, pausing her motions. “Let’s find out where it comes from and where it goes. If we’re going to be here a while, I don’t want to unintentionally poison our host.”

“Huh. We’re the parasites here, huh?”

“Until we can learn to be symbiotic, yes.” He grinned suddenly. “Okay, legit question.”

“Symbiotic aliens? They’re a thing. And some of your human cryptids _are_ aliens. Yeti and the Chupacabra for certain.”

“Yes!” Punching the air and jumping to his feet, Keith couldn’t help but feel laughter bubble up again. “I knew it!” He looked upstream, then began moving downstream. Something about their easy connection made it easy to move with Krolia. It could have been their actual blood singing for each other’s connection, could have been all the standard Blade training, but he wasn’t going to question it.

They followed the stream to its outlet, a pond on the larger side, with shallows ending with a low clearing. Surrounding the pond’s clearing was a low hill, with grass growing closer to the top on the side facing the pond and rolling down the opposite side. Krolia, being stronger, put her helmet back on and dove in to carefully check if there was some form of “drain” for the water. While she was exploring the depths, Keith dug a shallow trench up one side of the hill to see if the soil was similar enough to Earth’s, and if there were any obvious signs of flooding around the pond. Satisfied with his investigation, he began assessing the edibility of the plant life around the edges of the pond, coming up with several interesting plants to try both raw and grilled.

When Krolia returned almost a half hour later, Keith was sitting at the edge of the pond, tying the various bundles together for easy transport. He looked up, flashing a quick smile. “How was it?”

“It definitely drains, but not with a strong enough current to take us through whatever filtration system it’s using. The water empties out very slowly through a crack that I’d track the size of if we’re going to be here for any length of time.” She shook off a little more water. “This _is_ big enough to be a major hydration source for the whale, but there _was_ that branch that went off to a different location that I’d like to see if it’s a similar situation to this. My guess is that there’s more than two of these ponds for redundancy’s sake.”

“I found some edible food and some ‘let’s cook it to see if it becomes edible’ food.” He pointed around. “All above that waterline there. I don’t want to touch any of the water plants, since those are probably the first level of water filtration, like what’s over there by the stream.”

She took in the sight and nodded. “Floods happen regularly, then. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a planet with enough free water to do this.”

Keith winced. There were a lot of desert planets. Worse yet, there were more every day thanks to how the Galra Empire would drain planets of their quintessence. Those planets always made him feel sick deep in his gut. “Yeah, I’d choose either of those two caves upstream a bit. I like the one just, uh, ‘north’ of that fork. Okay, real talk. Should we use compass directions or what for this? Because ‘fore’ and ‘aft’ work just as well here as ‘north’ and ‘south.’ Food for thought.” He stood facing upstream, towards the nose of the whale, then pointed left, along what looked like a dry path. “This is _probably_ from the other pond or another water source, for when it overflows.”

“Your father—” Krolia was interrupted as a bright light lit up the sky, streaking overhead. Keith also looked up, watching a handful of tails follow along behind that first comet. Thankfully, they overshot, making their landing further away than where Krolia and Keith stood. The timing of the spacetime waves was easier to predict, and he looked to his mother.

“We have about six hours before we need to brace for the next wave, and that’s only about a fifteen minute run for me.” He knew that Krolia was faster, just due to her long legs being able to propel her farther. It had made getting to the whale a hell of a lot easier, thankfully.

“Including cool-down to get your breathing under control?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Let’s go check that out.”

Keith was true to his assessment, slowing down at about eight minutes into the run to a jog, then a walk about a minute away, carefully working with his breathing the entire time. When they peeked through the foliage to see the “comet,” he blinked twice. “What _is_ that?”

Krolia looked up. “In danger!” Breaking cover with a snarl, she attacked the first creature that had been hunting what just _couldn’t_ be a cosmic wolf. Keith was seconds behind her, and they dispatched the aliens quickly. She scanned them as she spoke. “Don’t touch the pup yet. It’s called a cosmic wolf. They’re pack-based with medium intelligence, which means that this pup was separated unwillingly from its family group.” She paused. “Any living pack would have been hot on these creatures’ trails and already would have been here had they been alive.”

“He’s orphaned?”

Krolia didn’t understand why her son’s voice broke, distress clear to her as day. Maybe he’d had a close friend who had been orphaned? She treaded this carefully, and her voice lowered with as much respect and compassion as possible. “I believe so.”

“Wh-why shouldn’t I touch it? Him? Her?”

“Possibly him due to the coloring, hard to say without checking.” She walked a pace closer, letting the computer on her wrist assess if what they’d killed were edible. “Space wolves haven’t been seen since Altea fell. They aren’t Altean in origin but were considered very expensive companion creatures for several reasons. Adults initiate and then cement a quantum bond with the partner of their choosing. From what I remember from the old lore, a pup has no control over the bonding process.” She smiled softly. “They also teleport both themselves and-or anyone or thing touching them. They can survive in deep space for short amounts of time. They have special organs that work better than echolocation to be able to scout a jump into a place they’ve never seen before, and Altean search-and-rescue teams with a wolf always had higher live-rescue success rates.”

The puppy began to move, paws twitching as he woke up, and Krolia grabbed Keith’s hand carefully, gently, before he reached out to help the little creature. “Keith. Are you comfortable knowing that an alien will have a mental connection with you? The bonding process will knock you on your ass for a day or two, and I can tell already that you’re not very well-rested to begin with.”

Keith’s face was suddenly very, _very_ old. Too old. His voice was soft. “I have six soulmates. We pilot Voltron together. We have been in each other’s heads for longer than I think is recommended for humans, had the Alteans known the kind of stress it would create for us.”

Krolia’s hand fell away in shock, but also in understanding that her boy knew what he was talking about. “Seven total? That’s . . . that’s _quite_ a lot. I suppose that would give you a very good grasp on what you can and can’t handle.”

“I try to be honest about it.” Keith walked closer to the little pup, then sat down a few steps away. “Why don’t _you_ want the pup for yourself?”

Smiling, Krolia took a few steps back and sat on a nearby rock, checking the status of the scans. So far, these would both cook well and would stand up for being preserved with some salt. Which, thankfully, they’d located a mine for along the stream. Her current theory was that when the space whale needed certain minerals, it would flood the various little caves. Otherwise, the minerals looked like they filter out from somewhere to be deposited in those caves. It would bear investigating. “Me? I like my mental privacy.”

“C’mon, that’s not why.”

Krolia’s smile grew into a grin. “I always wanted to get you a dog when you were older. Your dad had two when we met, but they were old boys who passed away before you were born. Every child should have some animal companion to teach them lessons that parents aren’t able to give.”

Keith’s gaze softened, but he looked away before he could see his heartbreak. Thankfully, she was behind him, the little wolf pup focusing on Keith in particular. He didn’t know how to tell her that Dad was dead. That he’d grown up in the foster system, lost until Shiro found him. That he’d been abused in almost every house. That everyone got tired of him and the shit he’d pull to see if they’d stay. That he’d been suicidal. That his soulmates were his lifeline, his rescue, his crutch and support system.

A nose pushed up into his hand.

Yellow eyes locked onto purple.

“Oh.”

The puppy crawled into his lap, front paws braced against his chest to lean up and lick at his cheek, and he _felt_ the bond between them snap into place. Tears burst down his face at the _fear-loneliness-runrunrun_ that was still in the back of the pup’s mind, and he found himself responding with _safe-stay-safe-family_ as best as he could. The “conversation” happened a couple more times, Keith reminded of how sometimes Ryou would need to be reassured in several different ways before they felt safe after an anxiety attack, usually from different people.

He missed his cohort.

The pup zeroed in on that connection, and he could _feel_ the happiness at _“What a big, stable pack!”_ roll right over his mind and heart. And he smiled and whispered, “They’d be happy to meet you too. Almost as happy as I am to meet you.”

The pup tippy-tapped against his chest, then realized that there was _another_ connection. Ears perked up and the yelp of _ANOTHER MOTHER_ in the happiest mental “tone” ever was the only warning before the pup launched himself at Krolia’s feet, wiggling and yipping happily and rubbing against her legs. She smiled and reached down to give scritches behind one ear. “Is he in your mind like the stories say?”

“Yeah.” Keith’s voice was soft, warm. “And yeah, it’s going to knock me on my ass in a while, but I’d like to eat and clean up before I pass out.”

~*~

Krolia sat at the entrance to the cave, Keith asleep behind her with his arms around the cosmic wolf pup. She was so very, _very_ happy that she’d been able to give this to him. He was too young to look so serious, and she wondered all over again _what_ could have caused him to hold himself so tightly? He was barely out of being a Galra kit yet was a human adult and a full member of the Blade of Marmora. He had spoken about some aspects of his mental health, but wasn’t comfortable outright telling her everything about it. She’d seen some of his past, mostly hints of possible futures. He fell asleep telling her about Shiro’s mentorship at the Garrison.

The timer clicked over to zero.

She rested her head back against the stone of the cave to let another wave wash over her.

_A graveyard._

_A graveyard and a little boy with dark hair and eyes like nebulae glaring at a stone._

_Bold letters carved the name Kogane into cold granite._

_Flashes of home environments, all painful, finally ending with the gentle smile of a famous pilot and a thumbprint on a datapad._

Gasping to the present, Krolia stumbled off to one side, willing herself not to retch. She _needed_ the food. She _needed_ her strength. Her . . . her boy . . . he had . . . 

She failed, but made it to the stream just in time to be sick into the water.

Keith wasn’t stealthy as he followed her, entirely on purpose. He’d had a nightmare of his dad’s grave, which had morphed into enough personal history that he had woken up to try to escape it. He hadn’t, but waking up from nightmares was nothing new to him. Waking up alone was. When he checked the time, along with the fact that Krolia wasn’t there, Keith let his head fall back against his arm with a sigh. He picked the limp form of his new friend up, cradling him close, the young man walked after his mother. She glanced up at him, teeth bared as another wave of grief-nausea crested. Sitting beside her, Keith waited until she caught her breath, curled in around himself. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Do you need space?”

Her answer was to drag him into an embrace, curling arms and legs around her kit _her only kit with her love oh stars_ , and shook with her emotions. After a little shuffling, he got one arm around her waist to hug her back. She asked very softly, “Did he die on the job?”

Keith closed his eyes. It was an old pain, now. Not one he carried fresh with him anymore. Shiro, then the rest of his soulmates had all been able to help him through some hard conversations some months back. “He went back in. The house collapsed around him.”

“The . . . the house?” Surely . . . surely _not_.

“Our house.”

“How did the fire start? Why did he go back in?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t told and didn’t . . . I wasn’t at a place to find out more. I think now, with the people I love around me, I’d feel strong enough to find out how it all happened.” Keith let Krolia tuck him under her chin, resting against her more fully.

“I would have come back for you _immediately_ had I known. I am so sorry you had to bear this grief alone, Keith.” She kissed his forehead in the human way again, pressing her cheek against it in the Galra way, and whispered, “Let me tell you more about your father? When I can?”

“Yeah, but . . . can I ask you one thing?”

“Yes.”

“Were you soulmated to him?” Keith blurted, pulling back just enough to look up at the face that was so eerily similar to his own.

Krolia’s face gentled. “No. Our love took years to develop. He never had a living soulmate, so far as what we could tell. He told me about the system for humans, I told him about the Galra. We spent so much time just _talking_ when he was home. I learned English so that I could preserve my translator for other languages. I wouldn’t mind talking English with you to get my memory back.”

“You two . . . loved each other so much that you had me.”

“My love for your father clearly didn’t die with him. I still love him, and it will take a long time for me to have peace with knowing that he passed away without me knowing.” She pressed her face against his hair and drew in a deep breath. “You smell a little like him, though. Is . . . would it be okay to just hug you? When I miss him?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, suddenly choked up. He pressed a hand to his eyes, trying to stop his tears from falling. “I mean, you could hug me anytime.”

Her arms tightened around him. “Did Shiro save you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, in so many ways.”

“He’s the Champion, isn’t he?”

Keith pulled back quickly to see her face, tears still flowing but forgotten. “How do you know that?”

“Galra Commanders are required to return to Central Command on a strict schedule in order to receive updated training.” She swallowed. “We’re required to attend any arena matches happening during our stay. I . . . saw that fight. He won. But barely.”

“We all felt his pain, and we . . . we’re all very, very scarred up.”

“Your scars are proof that you’re strong. That you’ve survived.”

Keith let his forehead fall against his mother’s shoulder. “Mom . . .”

The name gripped her chest, and she trembled.

“Mom, there’s . . . more. A lot more. I’m not . . . I’m still ashamed about a lot of things. I don’t want you to judge me.”

She wished, _oh_ she wished that she hadn’t had to leave her sweet son all those years ago. “I can’t judge something that I know nothing about right now. I also can’t judge you based off of Galra responses, or even human responses. You’re _both_. You have had to find your own way, and you didn’t even _know_ about your Galra heritage for most of your life.” She brushed his hair away from his face and smiled. “You tell me what you want, when you can, at your own pace. We’re still new to each other; trust takes time.” She smiled. “But I will admit that hearing you call me mom will always be one of my greatest treasures in life, Keith.”

He smiled back, and found himself picked up with very little effort, Krolia walking back towards their cave. “I may not be able to call you mom all the time.”

“Whenever you can, whenever you _want to_ , that’s all that will matter to me. I have my son back.” Krolia smiled, chest heaving in a quiet sob, and felt Keith wrap his free arm up around her neck. She let herself cry again, but this time it felt like a weight was slowly sliding off of her shoulders. “I have my son. I could never ask for anything more in my life.”

Keith grinned suddenly. “Not even rekindling something with a certain surly Galra who I’m sure adopted me?”

Krolia barked a laugh, paused, blushed, then eyed her son. “Oh, you’re my boy all right. I said something stupidly similar to Ulaz some time back.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Wait. Did you say that Kolivan _adopted_ you?”


End file.
